2nd Handy Dandy
by RobinRedoe
Summary: My first try at a fanfic. Disclaimer. I don't own any rights to the A-team tv-series. - The team investigates the strange accidents happening around a business that sells 2nd hand furniture and antiques. Will the job be a piece of cake? Or will it turn out to become quite a dangerous adventure after all?
1. Chapter 1 - on their way

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hello there.  
Here is my firs try at writing a fan fic (and writing at all, please bare with me, haha). I love the A-team characters and hope you can tell from the story. Please sit back and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 1: On their way

"Come on B.A.!" Murdock demanded, staring at the muscled back of the driver of the black van.

"Answer me!" he added with a high boyish voice while pulling up his knees and adjusting his sitting position in his seat.

The four members had been driving on the highway for 5 hours straight. They were on their way to a new mission that involved a company handling in 2nd hand furniture and antiques, and they hadn't been able to fool B.A into a plane this time.  
After he'd read all of his comic books, Murdock had become bored and fidgety, and at some point (quite to the nuisance of 'some' of his team members), he'd adopted the role of Murdocko, the wacky Road Game Quizzzzz Masta'.

"I'll ask you again," Murdock said patiently with a French accent and a tone of mystery in his voice.

"I spy wieth my liedl' eye, somefink….BLUE"

"Your eyes are gonna be BLACK 'n BLUE soon if you don't cut this crap fool!" B.A. snapped at the lanky pilot from behind his steering wheel.

"The sky" he then added gruffly.

"Meep! wrrrrong!" Murdock replied with a smug grin on his face.

"Two more tries to go-ooo", he added with his most annoying singsong voice while leaning forward and rapping the big man on his right shoulder.

B.A. growled furiously in his rear mirror at the cheerful man in the seat behind him. A soft chuckle could be heard from the passenger's seat next to him.  
B.A aimed his glare at the bright face of his white-haired colonel.

"Don't encourage him, Hannibal.."

Murdock, who was clearly oblivious to the growing threat in front of him, started humming something that sounded awkwardly familiar to 'ring-around-the-rosy'.  
Face who had been studying the road map cleared his throat.

"Sorry to interrupt you guys, but can we go for a quick pit stop? I am dying to stretch my legs. Besides, we're almost there, and I'd like to freshen up a little before arrival".

Hannibal nodded while looking for a cigar in his jacket pocket.

"There is a gas station only a few miles away. Let's stop there."

B.A sighed in relief, knowing the long road trip was finally coming to an end. He could use some fresh air too.  
And he really felt the need to flex his muscles at a certain person sitting behind him...


	2. Chapter 2 - Milk, sunglasses and wallets

Chapter 2 : About milk, sunglasses, and wallets

First entering the gas station store, Hannibal stopped briefly to look around and take up the scenery.  
It was a shabby little shop, but with all the basics you could wish for when you were on a road trip. The colonel was always aware of his surroundings, especially when entering unfamiliar scenes. With every new mission, he tried to get a feel for the type of people that lived in the area. Currently, there were only a few people present in the shop. Other than the shopkeeper, an elderly lady with a tight gray bun of hair and glasses that had slipped to the tip of her nose, there was only one other customer present who was just entering the shop through the bathroom door.  
He was a bulky tall guy with dark surly looking eyes. His chin had a stubble and his dark somewhat curly hair looked dirty and unkempt. On his long suntanned arms, he had a couple of green faded tattoos. One of them a big Japanese koi carp. Sensing his presence and the colonel's scrutinizing stare, the man turned his head and glared at Hannibal. Then he turned around and disappeared between the aisles.

Hannibal walked to the coffee machine to get himself a cup of Joe while his teammates scattered around; all with their own goals in mind.  
Face immediately disappeared into the bathroom. B.A had soon found himself a stash of milk in the fridge.  
Thirsty as he was, he grabbed a gallon, wondering if he should get another container to-go.  
Meanwhile, Murdock had discovered the stand with wacky sunglasses. Within a minute he was trying out one particularly ugly pair that had a huge yellow pointy frame and circular pitch black glasses. It made him look like an alien. Nudging B.A. enthusiastically to show him his new find, the dark man almost dropped the containers of milk he was holding. Snarling at him and giving Murdock a murderous glare for good measure, he turned his back on the crazy man and walked towards the sandwiches on display.  
Better ignore the fool before I'll explode!

Slightly disappointed, Murdock put back the sunglasses where they belonged. But the disappointment didn't stay long.

"You know, you still haven't guessed what I spied with my lil' eye, B.A". He said with renewed energy.

"Ain't no playing games with you fool!", B.A answered, checking out the displayed sandwiches.

"It's your blue hat" He added with a low voice.

"Aaaaaaaand wrrrrong again!" Murdock said loudly, making the shopkeeper look up slightly annoyed.

"I'll give you a hint, oh Bad Tempered one. You'll find it right at the start".

B.A growled and swung one free arm at the pilot. But Murdock anticipated the move.

"Too slow big guy!" he laughed while swooping into another aisle with a cheerful howl.

Scowling at the disappearing pilot, B.A walked towards Hannibal who had been following the scene with a mischievous glint in his eye while quietly sipping his coffee.

Face was in the bathroom splattering his face with water at the sink.  
The conman had carefully folded up his tailor-made coat and rolled up the sleeves of his buttoned up shirt to prevent his precious clothes from getting wet.  
He'd swung his necktie over his shoulder. It wouldn't do meeting their client with damp clothes. He was feeling refreshed already.

The handsome womanizer was happy about this new mission they were on. He was expecting easy money this time, knowing their new client was a wealthy man.  
The client was a businessman who had been experiencing a lot of trouble during the last couple of months. Strange accidents had been happening around his business and amongst his staff members. It smelled like sabotage. The team was hired to go undercover and find out who the culprit was.  
That shouldn't be too hard…  
Face smiled confidently at his reflection. Maybe he could even keep his clothes clean and unharmed this time. It would save him some money from his tailor.  
And mayyyybe he could take Rhonda, his latest catch back in L.A, out to that fancy new restaurant he'd discovered a few weeks ago.

"Rhonda, oh Rhonda," he muttered with a smug smile on his face while imagining a very intimate dinner for two.

While running a comb through his hair, Face suddenly noticed a wallet lying on the floor right under the sink. It must've been from that guy that he saw leaving the bathroom earlier. Quickly he picked it up.  
He was about to run after the man when his curiosity got the better of him. He couldn't resist having a look inside the wallet before returning it.  
A quick glance told him that the man didn't have much cash on him. A bank card and some credit cards.  
According to his driver's license, his name was Sean Hernandez. 39 years old. Class C permit. Maybe a Truck driver?

Stuffing back the items into the wallet, Face picked up his coat and walked out of the bathroom. Seeing the surly man standing at the counter, frantically searching his pockets for his wallet, he quickly approached him.

"Excuse me, I believe this is yours?" Face smiled while handing over the wallet.

"I found it on the bathroom floor, can you believe it?"

The man stared at Face for a few seconds, then roughly grabbed the wallet from the conman's hand.  
He feverishly scanned its contents, checking if everything was still inside, then removed a ten dollar bill and threw it on the counter.  
The elderly lady nervously opened the register for change, but the man was already heading for the door with his groceries. Without even looking at Face, nor the shopkeeper, he trashed out of the store without saying a word.

"And you're welcome," Face called after him sarcastically.

He felt rather indignant at the man's rude behavior.


	3. Chapter 3 - introductions

Chapter 3 - Introductions

After the rather unusual incident at the gas station, the team paid for their groceries and were on their way again. Soon they arrived at the place, being greeted by a beautiful, but old fashioned, farmhouse, accompanied by a big old shed and some unoccupied stables. At the entrance was a nice little pond where a flock of geese and some ducks had settled down.  
B.A parked the van, and the team members stepped out, looking around and taking up their surroundings. Face couldn't help but grimace at the sight of the farm. He kinda expected a villa or something way fancier. Not this. "They'd better have a proper bathroom...," Face quietly moaned.

The front door opened, and an elderly man, slightly overweight with a big graying mustache and bulging tummy stepped out onto the veranda. He was wearing a dark-colored Stetson hat and boots to match. The man was followed closely by his wife, a short, plump lady with a kind face and rosy cheeks. She kept her white hair in a ponytail. The lady wore an old pair of jeans with spots of paint on them. She quickly wiped her hands on a stained rag and pushed away a strand of hair from her eyes. It looked like she had been working on some project before their arrival.  
Murdock, standing with his hands in his pants pockets, immediately liked the lady. She reminded him of his gramma.

The two figures approached the team, the man beaming at them.  
"Well, well! Look who's finally here! Thanks for coming," he said approaching Hannibal first with an outstretched hand.  
"You must be Hannibal. Mike told me all about you".  
Hannibal stepped forward to shake hands. "How are you doing Mister Jefferson."  
"Please, call me Joe."  
"I believe you haven't met my lovely wife Patty yet," Joe continued while Hannibal and Patty shook hands.  
Hannibal beamed and introduced himself and his team to Patty and Joe. The men, waiting patiently in line, gave the couple an acknowledging nudge with their heads when their names were mentioned. After their introductions, they were invited inside for coffee.  
Murdock, who'd noticed Face's slight disappointment about their temporary accommodation arrangements, hopped around his buddy and ruffled his hair in a fatherly way, saying "There, there, now," before quickly disappearing into the house with a snigger. "argh! MURDOCK!"  
Face rolled his eyes. He followed the pilot into the house while vigorously flattening his now messed-up hair. He was closely followed by a smirking B.A. Hannibal closed the rear, frowning ever so slightly. He'd noticed the tension in the elderly couple and the absence of their son.  
"Where is Mike?" He asked, looking around while entering the eat-in kitchen.  
Mike, Joe and Patty's youngest son, had been the one who'd first approached the A-team a few weeks ago. After being screened thoroughly by Hannibal, he'd been their contact person until recently.  
Joe quickly glanced at Patty, who hang her shoulders and stifled a small sob. He put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently.  
"Mike had an accident... He..," Joe paused and took a shuddering breath. "He's in the hospital .. in a coma. The doctor's... they don't know, but they're hopeful", Joe said with a slightly trembling voice.  
"It wasn't an accident..." Patty said with evident anger in her voice. A single tear slid from her cheek. Joe nodded.  
"We believe someone tried to attack Mike deliberately," he continued. "But we can't prove anything."  
Joe sighed.  
"He was working in the warehouse when a cabinet tumbled down from the loft and landed on top of him. It happened only two days ago. It just adds up to the previous 'accident's we've had the last few months."  
"I'm real sorry to hear that," Hannibal said with genuine sympathy.  
"No worries Joe. Patty. We'll get to the bottom of this."  
Hannibal turned around to face his men while searching his pockets. "That means we've got some work to do, men."  
Promptly, a cigar appeared right in front of the colonel.  
"Thanks, Face." Hannibal grinned, taking the cigar from Face's hand.  
Biting off the end and spitting the butt in his gloved hand, he turned around to face his clients again.  
"But first I need to know more about your operation, Joe," he said while patting his pockets again, this time in search for a lighter.  
"We need more details before we can make a plan."  
As on cue, a hand with a lit lighter appeared in front of his nose. Smiling even more broadly now, Hannibal lit his cigar gratefully and inhaled deeply.  
Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he added.  
"I think it's time to get some ducks in a row, what about it, guys?"  
From the determination in their eyes, the colonel could tell that his men were as eager to get to work as he was.


	4. Chapter 4 - Jefferson's tale

Chapter 4 - Jefferson's tale

A gray and rusty old delivery truck with faded paint on the flanks, remainders of a long gone company logo, drove over a bumpy sandy road. The road lay parallel to the outside perimeter of the Jefferson's farm that was marked with a thick wooden fence. Just as the truck passed the front yard, it suddenly slowed down to a halt. Inside, the driver was throwing a bewildered and suspicious look at the black van that was parked in front of the farm house. Recognizing the black color and red markings, he sat there for a few seconds contemplating his moves, while staring at the windows.

His actions hadn't gone unnoticed.

Hannibal who had been facing the window, was discussing events with his client and team in the cosy farmhouse kitchen. Just when he'd been looking up, he saw the old truck down the road approaching and coming to an halt. Frowning, the colonel stopped mid-sentence and casually walked to the kitchen window, taking a puff from his cigar. With a gloved hand he moved one of the curtains away. His trained men were immediately alert watching their colonel's every move, expecting a command.

But none came.

Hannibal peered at the pick-up truck at the other end of the fence. The vehicle was too far away to get a good visual of the driver's face, which was half hidden in the shadows. Still, they managed to lock eyes with each other. The man in the truck cursed under his breath when realizing he had been seen. How could he be so obvious? Hitting his gas pedal hard he muttered "shit shit shit!".

"Trouble Hannibal?" Face asked, standing next to his COL, peeking over his shoulder.  
Hannibal took another swag of his cigar while scrutinizing the truck that was speeding away.  
"It looks like we may have to keep a close watch over the Jeffersons tonight.", Hannibal said darkly. "I believe they will be their next target...".

Finally turning around with a pensive look, Hannibal noticed Joe and Patty's worried faces. Murdock had a dark and cautious expression on his face, while B.A's body language still showed alertness. Face peered out of the window after the car that had just vanished out of sight. A pity that the car had been too far away to read its license plates.

"Joe, I need a thorough report about all the strange events that have been taking place here. We need to pinpoint when or how it started. I want you to go through your administration too, to see what sales you've had in this period. They might be connected somehow."

Joe nodded. "I do have my suspicions about a certain person involved. But I can't proof a thing, and hope that you and your men can help me with that".

The elderly man took off his hat and sat down at the antique looking oak dining table. Swallowing hard, he started recounting the events. His wife Patty stood close behind him, resting her hands reassuringly on his shoulders. Hannibal pulled up a chair and sat down too, his cigar in the corner of his mouth.

"I know my son Mike has told you about some of our troubles, but I'll give you a more detailed summary. Though it's hard to put an exact date to it, I believe that our trouble started a couple of months ago after I visited the Golden Estate House."  
Noticing Hannibal's questioning eyes, Joe added:  
"It's a big auction house in the area that only sells high priority stuff. They were auctioning family heirlooms from the, in our area well known, Connor family.  
Magnus Connor, the last resident of the house, recently passed away. The man was wealthy and a collector of rare European furniture and trinkets. The family decided to auction most of his possessions, and it drew a lot of attention from high bidders. Of course, I couldn't stay away myself.

Joe sighed. His spread hands on the table and clenchd them into fists.

"But so did Mitchell, my competitor who owns another well running Antiques and rarities shop downtown. I barely managed to outbid him on an antique chair that I really wanted to add to my personal collection. And he didn't like it. He didn't like it at all! He came to our warehouse a couple of times, to try and buy it from me, offering me a fair compensation too. But I didn't budge. I didn't want to sell it to him. And I still have the feeling there is something fishy about his interest in that chair. He pulled up a fight, and when that didn't work out he walked away cursing me and my family..."

" And then the weird accidents started to happen."  
Joe paused to look at Hannibal, who had been listening intently. Joe's face hardened as he continued:

"First small things happened. We've had a couple of flat tires. Or our pick-up truck wouldn't start, causing delays in our deliveries and a lot of unhappy customers.  
A week later our forklift truck went out of control and smashed a rather valuable antique cabinet that had just been purchased by an important client of ours.  
Items went missing. Rare and expensive trinkets that were miraculously sold in Mitchell's shop. But also bigger objects disappeared…  
One of our more faithful customers noticed Mitchell was selling the exact same limited edition Tiffany's lamp that went missing from our warehouse just a few days earlier."  
"What a coincidence huh?" Joe added sarcastically

"But recently these strange events started to become more threatening.  
We've had a fire in our warehouse only last week. But we've been extremely lucky that Pince, one of our employees, caught it early and managed to extinguish it before it could cause any real damage. I could've closed shop for good if that fire had gone unnoticed."  
Joe sighed, squeezing his hands together, then dropping them on the table in front of him.

"Don't forget about Mike, honey", Patty almost whispered, making Joe jump. He almost forgot that she had been standing behind him all that time. Her arms were now folded tightly around her torso in a protective way as if she was hurting.

"Yes, Mike's accident is the most recent of events, and the very worst."  
"And I guess it's needless to say that our business isn't running very well lately."  
Joe sighed again. "If this keeps up, we can close shop within a couple of months. I will be bankrupt".

There was a long-lasting silence in the kitchen as Joe finished his story.

"I am going to make you all some coffee," Patty said, breaking the tension, a desperate way to distract herself with something to do. Her hands were slightly trembling when she added scoops of coffee to the filter of the coffee machine.

Murdock who had been listening intently eyed the couple from the corner in the kitchen where he had been slouching against the wall. He had been unusually silent, listening to Joe's story with his hands stuck deep in his pants pockets. Even though he didn't know the couple very well yet, he appreciated the friendship and bond they so obviously shared with each other. These were kind people going through a lot of shit that they didn't deserve.  
Picking at his fingers while changing his weight from one leg to the other, he realized that it wasn't a unique case, though. This family was in a similar situation as most of their clients had been until now. And nobody ever deserved it. That was probably why they took on so many 'charity-cases', as Face called them. Money or not, the A-team would come to the rescue.

Murdock glanced at the men whom he trusted with his very life.  
Hannibal as sharp as a needle. B.A as steady as a rocket launcher, and Face as smooth as a herring (hmm.. he probably needed a better metaphor for his buddy).  
And he himself?..As wacky as a… as a...…..doorknob? Heck... Murdock frowned. He definitely needed to give it some more thought before he could answer that one properly. The pilot knew that he was probably not needed for an air raid during this particular excursion, but he was sure he was going to be useful to his team one way or the other. He always was. And the same was true for his mates. They were going to help these people!  
Murdock could already feel the men's determination buzzing in his chest.  
Smirking, while checking out the expression on his colonel's face, he knew that the determination would soon be joined with a pinch of Jazz-to-go…  
"Oh boy!"

Suddenly the kitchen door opened. Everyone looked up in alert.


	5. Chapter 5 - Forcefields and Coffee

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hey, i wanted to thank you for the reviews/comments. I am happy that you enjoy the story and my interpretation of the characters so far. Thanks!

* * *

Chapter 5- Forcefields and coffee

Dave, a young man in his mid-twenties with a smug looking face and blond spiky hair, stood in the entrance of the kitchen, holding a box with an antique pendulum in his arms.  
If he thought he would receive a warm welcome at his entrance, he was wrong.  
His pale blue eyes narrowed as he noticed the scrutinizing unfamiliar faces staring at him. Taken aback, he let his face go blank and waited for an explanation.  
He had this funny feeling he'd just walked into a bear cave...

The four men watched the newcomer with vigilance, but when Joe greeted his employee cheerfully, their expressions seem to relax. Except for Murdock, who kept gazing and slowly removed his hands from his pants pockets.  
Then without a warning, he briskly walked towards the young man, stopped right in front of him and looked him up and down with a questioning expression on his face.  
Drawing his face closer to Dave's (who, in response, just stared blankly at him), Murdock's eyes narrowed.  
Giving the young man a piercing stare with his coffee black eyes he spoke with a highly British accent: " _Your forcefield displeases me, sir…_ ".

"Er..." Dave mumbled, looking slightly bewildered, "...Okay...?"

He started to look annoyed, wondering why the man wasn't breaking eye-contact with him.

"What is this? A staring contest?" he laughed, trying to break the tension while glancing from Murdock to Joe, and then back at Murdock again.

Deciding to dismiss this weirdness, he then shrugged and simply stepped around the lanky man to put down the box and its contents on the kitchen table.

"What's going on, boss?" Dave said as casually as he could.

Murdock, still glaring at the young man, resigned to his corner and sulkily stuck his hands deep in his pants pockets again.  
As Hannibal gave Murdock a quick examining look, B.A and Face exchanged surprised glances.

Face mouthed: "Forcefield?"

B.A just shrugged, staring at the pilot with a clearly annoyed frown on his face.

"Just jibba jabba to get a reaction, I guess..." he whispered back.

Face nodded pensively at the sergeant.  
Murdock, in the meantime, pretended not to have heard them.

If Joe noticed the odd scene at all, he certainly wasn't going to show it.  
He knew the team was on high alert right now, doing what they were paid for. Patting Dave warmly on the back, he gave him a quick introduction.  
"Men, this is Dave Barrows, our most trusted employee."  
Dave grinned seemingly awkward while moving a hand through his hair. However, his smile didn't reach his eyes.  
Looking around again, his gaze lingered a few seconds too long on the muscular black man who looked like he was literally plated with golden jewelry. B.A noticed the stare and crossed his arms, glaring back at him without saying a word.

"Who ARE these guys? Dave wondered. He was almost starting to feel intimidated. Almost...

"I expect you guys will see a lot of Dave around here because he sleeps under the same roof until he finds himself a better residence. " Joe said.

"He's our Jack of all trades and does a lot for us at the warehouse. But he also has some fair knowledge about antiques and the less valuable 2nd-handies, as I like to call them."

Then, in order to answer Dave's unspoken questions, he introduced the team.

"These men are here to help us investigate the cause of our recent accidents," Joe said with a voice that sounded hopeful.  
"And they will help us getting back to our feet again".

Dave looked up at the group."But that's amazing!" he said.

"I really hope you'll find the culprit soon. I am fearing for my own life since Mike's horrible accident. We never know when he'll strike again and I've been jumpy ever since".

Hannibal studied the younger man for a second. Then, he finally removed his almost smoked cigar from the corner of his mouth, put it out, and tossed it into the trash bin.  
"Then maybe you'll like to help us, Dave," he said with his most chipper voice.  
I understand you work in the warehouse where it all happened, correct?"

"Yes that's correct", Dave hesitated, wondering what the white-haired man wanted from him exactly.

"In that case, you can show us around the place and maybe give us a tour around the town." Hannibal merely stated without asking.

"'Cause I'd like to know where this sleazeball Mitchell's is hiding," he added.

Dave looked momentarily uncertain, but then his face changed and he smiled.

"Sure," he said with a nod of his head. "Everything to help Joe and Patty".

"We're lucky to have you", Patty smiled while handing out mugs with freshly made coffee.


	6. Chapter 6 - There comes a plan

Chapter 6 - There comes a plan.

It was around noon. The team was on their way again. B.A had settled himself behind his steering wheel and was following Dave's car closely into town.

Face and Murdock were having a quiet conversation in the back seats of the van while Hannibal smoked a new cigar, working on his plan.

Joe and Patty had left to visit their son in the hospital and Hannibal figured they would at least be safe doing so. If there would be any attack on Joe or his wife, he expected it to happen around the warehouse, since all of the attacks had been concentrated around that building until now. Plus he needed all of his men right now.

"Come on, What was that all about back there, Murdock?", Face asked again cautiously, seeing the frown on his buddies face.

Murdock was picking at his nails, pouting slightly and trying hard to avoid the questions.

"Nothin' buddy...It's just.…. _I sensed something. A presence I have not felt since…._ "

Face raised an eyebrow at Murdock. Something about the sentence felt familiar.  
He gave it some thought and then it clicked.

"Murdock, are you quoting movies again?" Face asked with a slightly bemused expression on his face.

Murdock let go of his fingers and rose up slightly in his chair.

"Of course not!" He said with an exasperating voice. Slouching back in his seat again he added: " _I find your lack of faith quite disturbing_."

Murdock actually looked offended by the accusation though.

B.A snorted. "Fool's talkin' jibba jabba again, Hannibal".

"Hm Hm" Hannibal nodded absent-mindedly.

He had not followed the little bickering in the seats behind him and assumed for now that Murdock's behavior had been just one of his whims. So instead, he'd resolved to concentrate on the plan first.  
Puffing a cloud of smoke from his freshly lit cigar, he read the documents from the folder on his lap again while memorizing its contents so he could use it for later.  
Joe had handed the documents just before they left. The folder contained a detailed list of the accidents and odd events. Joe even managed to put some dates and time stamps on them. There were also documents and insurance papers with photos of the missing antiques. One of them was the rare Tiffany Nasturtium lamp. The one that one of Joe's customers, who was also a collector, had spotted in Mitchell's antique shop. Weird coincidence.  
Hannibal read the lists one more time and then turned around in his chair to face both Face and Murdock.  
Handing Face the folder with its contents, he suddenly grinned from ear to ear.

"Guys...I have a plan" he said, looking from the somewhat worried expression on Face's handsome features to Murdocks' instant lopsided smile.

"Uh-oh" Face muttered rather cautiously, as he noticed the unmistakable sparkle in his commander's steel blue eyes. At the same time, Murdock bent forward like a happy puppy waiting eagerly for instructions.

B.A gave his colonel a sideways glance and noticed the energy that was practically radiating from the man.

"Uh-oh indeed, sucka'!" he said gruffly. "He's already on the jazz, man!"

Hannibal merely chuckled in confirmation. The bulky sergeant just shook his head disapprovingly.

"What's your strategy Colonel", Murdock asked impatiently as he sat on the edge of his chair now.

"It's simple" Hannibal answered with mischief seeping through his voice. "We're going to collect a parcel,"

At the surprised looks of his men he added: "In fact, _you two_ are going to do it".

A low moan escaped Face's lips while Murdock just beamed at his commander.

" _Do. Or do not. There is no try_." he mused with a good imitation of Master Yoda.

Face gave his friend an irritated look as Hannibal turned around in his chair with an appreciative chuckle.

"Right you are Captain!" he said, sounding quite content about this new mission.

"Right you are..."


	7. Chapter 7 - Acting skills

Chapter 7 - Acting skills  
* * * NOTE * * *  
Thanks so much to all of you who are reading this story and encouraged me with your reviews. I enjoyed reading them, and they put a smile on my face. I hope to entertain you with this story. Every time I am posting something here, I feel a little nervous (What will they say?), but I post it anyway. I hope you enjoy this little scam that Face and Murdock are about to (hopefully) pull off. Stay tuned *^_^*

* * *

Chapter 7 - some great acting skills

Dave parked his car and turned off the engine on the wide parking area of the shopping center.  
They were close to Mitchell's antique store.  
Dave was wondering what the white-haired man, who obviously was leading the team, wanted from him.

The black van parked right next to his car, looking big and threatening next to his. Dave removed his keys and stepped out of his vehicle without any rush. He still wasn't sure what to think of these four guys. But at least they didn't drive along in the back seat with him, which he figured would've been a rather uncomfortable experience. Especially with that big bejeweled guy who seemed to be angry 24/7.

Hannibal stepped out of the car and approached the younger man with B.A on his heels.  
"So tell me, is that the sleazeball's place?" He asked, pointing with his cigar at the dandy antique store at the end of the block. Dave nodded unenthusiastically.

"That's the place".

As they spoke, a greying skinny man with pepper and salt beard and dark-rimmed glasses left the shop and walked toward his car across the parking lot.

"And who's that?" Hannibal pointed again, this time at the man. "That's Mitchell, isn't it?" He added, remembering the description Joe gave him.

"Yes", Dave said reluctantly, seeing the old man drive away in his big expensive car. "That's him alright".

"Perfect", Hannibal said, puffing his cigar. "Couldn't have planned this better myself".

Dave wondered what the older man was talking about when he heard the van doors slide open and close behind his back. He hadn't noticed the absence of the other two.  
Stepping out of the vehicle were Murdock and Face in an identical dark suit complete with matching ties and fancy loafers. Murdock, who'd abandoned his blue hat and had tried to tidy his wild hair, had a slight spring in his step. He was obviously happy to accompany his friend on this little scamming adventure.

"Feeling up to the job, Captain?" Hannibal asked, grinning around his cigar.

"Feeling all Handy Dandy an' A-Okay, boss", Murdock confirmed, posing his fingers into an 'o' and flashing it at his commander. Face straightened his tie and glanced one more time at his reflection in the van's window. Raking his fingers through his hair, then looking satisfied with the result, he picked up his briefcase and turned around to face his team.

"Okay men, you know what to do!" Hannibal said, patting Face contently on the shoulder.

"We're on our way", Face confirmed, gesturing Murdock to come along.

"Better take good care of ma wheels, man" B.A barked at Murdock who turned around on the balls of his feet.

Walking backward he rolled his eyes at the man."Nooo problem, oh Big Guy! GEEZ. You know me!", Murdock said, sounding hurt.

"Would I ever do anything to harm your baby?"

At the sound of the load growl coming from B.A, he winced, turned around on his heels again, and jogged to catch up with Face (looking over his shoulder one more time to make sure B.A wasn't following).

Dave looked at the men, puzzled. "What are they going to do?"

"That's for us to know and for you to find out later", Hannibal said. He put a gloved hand on Dave's shoulders, nudging him towards his car.

"We are leaving the van behind for Face and Murdock. They will join us later and know the address." Hannibal explained.

"You are now going to drive us to Joe's warehouse " he added while sitting opening the door of Dave's car and sitting down into the passengers' seat.

"Coming?" He asked B.A

B.A looked in horror at the rather small car.

"Man, I'm not stepping into that thing", he muttered at Hannibal.

"It's only for a short ride B.A." Hannibal said apologetically. "Don't tell me I have to dope you for cars too now?"

B.A snarled and climbed into the rather small back seat of the car while muttering and cursing under his breath all the way until he finally sat down heavily.  
Dave frowned at the sight of the angry bejeweled man, not sure if he wanted him sitting right behind him while driving. He hesitated but then finally stepped in himself. He couldn't hide the worried expression on his face though.  
Hadn't he just been 'very' relieved that he didn't have to drive these crazy nutballs around in his own car? He wasn't very pleased with his current situation at all! This wasn't what he signed up for.  
"Cheer up, kid" Hannibal said, reading the youngster's mind, "We don't bite".

"MUCH" B.A growled.

A little sweaty, Dave started the car…

* * *

Face glanced into the store window, spotting something that pleased him.  
"Oh la la," he said approvingly.  
Inside the store, amongst the precious 2nd hands and antiques, stood a gorgeous girl behind the counter. There didn't seem to be any customers at the moment.

"What's that, Oh Visage man?", Murdock asked.

"Let's just say that you'll let ME do all the talking." Face said with a mischievous smile on his lips.  
"Oeeeh, that means girlzzz", Murdock whispered as he expectantly peeked inside the shop as well.

Both men entered the store, checking their surroundings as they did. A little bell jingled, announcing their entrance. The 'cute as a button' shopkeeper looked up.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?", she asked with a cheerful voice.

"Bo Johnson", Face said, grabbing her hand with two hands and shaking it.

"And this is my twin brother Luke Johnson", he added, gesturing at Murdock who was beaming at her and shaking her hand too.

"Kate", Kate introduced herself, looking slightly puzzled at the men that didn't look alike at all.  
She was a tall brunette with amber colored eyes. She was wearing a navy blue pants suit that made her look graceful and accentuated her slim waist. It gave her an air of business but her eyes betrayed that she was a clever no-nonsense girl.

"Oh I know what you think!", Face quickly added, noticing the scanning gaze that the woman gave him. "Of course we're not 'identical' twins but we...".

"..'DO' finish each other's sentences sometimes", Murdock stepped in, poking Face in the ribs (who cringed and poked back).

"And unfortunately for him, he didn't get 'any' of my good looks...", Murdock added with a straight face, looking his 'brother' up and down.

"I guess we can't have it all, right?" Face said, giving Murdock a warning frown.

Though the latter was effectively avoiding his buddy's gaze with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a slightly lopsided smile on his lips.

"Eh sure, of course", the puzzled shopkeeper said, suddenly blushing at Face, who looked at her apologetically with his dazzling smile. Right there, she'd decided she liked him.

"Now on to business" Face said. He put his briefcase on the counter and opened it. Taking out an important looking document he cleared his throat and said: "We're looking for a rare.."  
"...Tiffany Nasturtium lamp", Murdock finished the sentence.

"We've come to.." Face continued  
"..Buy it from you.", Murdock added smoothly.

Kate looked from Face to Murdock, who both stared back at her with an innocent smile. "You really DO finish each other's sentences, don't you?" she laughed.  
"And yes, we do own this lamp you are looking for. Let me show you where it is".

Kate came from behind her counter and walked past them toward a far corner in the shop.  
Murdock followed but Face stayed behind, suddenly groaning in pain, bending over and grabbing his stomach. Murdock and Kate turned around in alert, and Kate asked: "What's wrong sir?".

"Ohhhh" Face groaned. "It must've been.."  
"..The oysters he ate yesterday", Murdock said with a worried voice. "I told you, brother, you should've taken the lobster instead. You know how you sometimes respond to oysters".

Murdock turned around to face Kate with big eyes and a serious expression: "It's not a pretty sight".

"You can spare her the details, brother". Face groaned.  
Holding his stomach, and asking in a pleading voice he added: "You wouldn't mind if I used your facilities, won't you Kate?".

Kate hesitated. "It's not standard procedure." she frowned. "We normally won't allow customers in the back store..."  
Then Face threw her such a pleading look with his sparkling blue eyes, even Murdock wanted to cuddle him.

"Great acting skills, Facyman", he thought, looking at the shopkeeper, who looked as if she wanted to cuddle Face too.

Kate made a decision. "But I'll make an exception for you". She said with a smile.  
Face answered her smile with a dazzling but burdened impression of his own.

"Great acting indeed, muchacho" Murdock thought approvingly, feeling amused as Kate gave his friend directions to the restroom.

"Works every time…"


	8. Chapter 8 - Invoices and Receipts

* * * NOTE * * *  
Oh my, this must be the longest chapter I've written so far. Again, thanks so much for the reviews. It truly encourages me to write on. Next chapter should be an exciting one, with some more action in it!

Chapter 8 - invoices and recipes

Face found himself in the small restroom with a roll of toilet paper on his left and a bottle of air freshener on his right. He had put down the lid of the toilet seat and was now sitting comfortably on top of it. The conman pensively tapped the back of his ballpoint pen to his lips while reading a document.  
On his lap was his briefcase, which was now being used as a makeshift table. The conman looked down on his recently stolen treasure. A signed invoice from Mitchell's administration and a blank invoice pad with the same paper lay on top of the briefcase. Face had managed to snatch the items from behind the counter as he passed it on his way to the restroom.  
Face examined the handwriting and signature on the used invoice. Mitchell's handwriting. Smiling ever so slightly, he lowered his pen and started to write on the blank invoice sheet. This was the part of his job that he enjoyed the most. Simple forgery. It was ever so rewarding when people fell for his scamming skills.  
Usually, he would do this sort of thing at home, without a clock ticking that told him to hurry up. But the conman loved a challenge, and this was one of them. Forgery on a toilet seat, who would've thought!  
Carefully, in a handwriting that wasn't his own, he wrote down the details of a purchase that had never taken place. But the pretty shopkeeper Kate didn't need to know that.  
While writing down some details he would occasionally let out a little moan of pain from the food poisoning he was supposed to have. Just in case someone would be eavesdropping. Not really a sound that a real gentleman would make, but what had to be done, had to be done. That was part of the scam, and, by the way, it was an idea Murdock came up with.

Almost done now.  
Swiftly, but accurately, Face had written down all the details of the purchase of the Tiffany lamp. Date of purchase, value, total fee, taxes, the new owner's (fake) name and address, payment details...And last but not least, Mr. Mitchells' signature, the crown on his work...

Meanwhile, Murdock and Kate were standing at the other end of the store amongst a range of antique lamps. Some were vintage with old fashioned flowery decorations on them. Others had kitsch lamp shades made of fine colored glass on heavy stands that were decorated with metal ornaments in art nouveau style. But that was only a small part of the store.  
There were cabinets, chairs, old faded globes, a rack with vintage clothing, old toys, books, instruments, even a grand piano, and many old Japanese and Chinese vases. Some of the objects were peculiar rarities.  
Murdock's head buzzed at the sight of all these interesting items together in one place. He was getting very close to a sensory-overload and had to calm himself down inwardly to prevent it from happening. If he crossed 'that' border, he wasn't sure if he could stay focused on the scam and prevent himself from becoming one of his many personifications again. This was not the right moment nor the right time for that.  
"Focus!" He told himself silently, remaining his composure for Kate as much as he could. But it was difficult. He would've fancied trying on that vintage cork racing helmet with goggles that he recognized on top of a shelf. Heck! he 'would' wear it and then ride the old and rusty velocipede that he spotted at the entrance of the store, probably singing Queen's 'bicycle race' as he went. He could already feel a howling mad character develop and tried to push it back into the shadows of his chaotic mind.  
"FOCUS", he told himself once more, before noticing the original vintage 'Space Invaders' Arcade game that was standing dusty and unused in another corner of the shop. Murdock groaned ever so slightly. This was agony!  
"It ain't fair", Murdock whined softly under his breath, longing to have a go at the game and score a new record. But even though his mind was on the verge of distraction, he'd managed to stay in character and play Bo Johnson, the twin brother who was interested in an ugly boring lamp. He simply had to. Lucky for him, Kate hadn't heard him, having other things on her mind.

"Surely Mr. Luke is taking a long time in there" Kate said, breaking through Murdock's chaotic thoughts, oblivious to the tension showing in his features. She was glancing at the door behind the counter with a worried face.  
The door was leading to the back of the shop where the restroom and office were. "I hope he's okay", she added, looking back at Murdock who was studying the Tiffany lamp with a pocket-sized eye loupe (with what seemed like a lot of interest). The little instrument was a handy tool that the Faceman usually used to examine jewelry and fine gemstones. Murdock conveniently found it in the coat's pocket.  
"Who? You mean good ol' Luke?" Murdock said, spinning around on his heels, happy with the distraction. He looked down at the pretty lady through the eye loupe with a questioning dark brown eye (which was magnified about ten times). Kate startled a little.  
"Nahhh, don't ya worry none about my little brother, he'll be fine". He reassured her, tapping her on the shoulder with a reassuring smile.  
The woman, however, wasn't convinced.  
"Maybe I should go and check if he's okay" Kate hesitated, already half turning away from Murdock.  
"Face needs more time!", Murdock thought frantically.  
Noticing the danger and thinking fast, Murdock looked around. He let out a loud gasp and leaped into the other end of the aisle right into a display with vintage golf bags and golf clubs.  
"Oh me, oh my!", he chanted with a thick Texas drawl while picking up a club and holding it in a swinging position.  
' _Now'_ he had her attention.  
"Please be careful Mr. Johnson!" Kate exclaimed, seeing the man merrily swinging the club around between the precious antiques on the shelves.  
"WOW, I've never ever touched a real Tom Auchterlonie St Andrews putter before!"He said, looking in awe. Murdock swung the club again, coming dangerously close to an antique cabinet with a big Chinese vase on it. Kate gave a squeak.  
"Technically you don't swing with a putter, though, but it feels good to try."  
"Please put down the golf club, sir" Kate pleaded. She had completely forgotten about the man in the restroom now.  
"But where are the golf balls? Those sad little critters." Murdock said, ignoring Kate, but putting down the club and pushing it into Kate's hands (much to her relief).  
Murdock turned around and reached for a vintage golf bag checking its contents for balls.  
"Kate, did you know that there is a Golf ball Liberation Army?" Murdock continued while searching the bag's contents. "They stand up for golf balls all around the world to face the injustice that's been done to them."  
Kate was not sure what to think of this piece of information and blinked a few times.  
Finding no balls, Murdock looked up at the blank expression on Kate's face.  
"High time for another distraction", he noted. Quickly looking around, he found the perfect one.  
Murdock let out another loud gasp, dropped the golf bag and sped into the aisle where a big vintage aircraft model stood.  
Kate quickly put away the club she had been holding all this time and nervously hurried after the frantic man.  
"Oh my, aren't you a thing of beauty", Murdock whispered at the yellow aircraft that was placed on an old worn down cabinet. Kate stood closely behind him, peering over his shoulder.  
"This is a Curtiss Biplane!" Murdock told her enthusiastically. "It fought during World War 1. It's a model from 1917."  
Kate nodded. "You know your aircrafts, sir", she said dryly, following the man's excited moves suspiciously.  
Murdock seemed totally taken by the model.  
With his nose, almost pressed upon the aircraft, he was checking out every detail.  
"Oh! it even has little equipment inside the cockpit!", he squealed with a boyish voice that could not hide his enthusiasm. He was on the verge of becoming captain H.M. Murdock the crazy pilot again, instead of Bo Johnson, the twin brother.

Just when Murdock was going to check if the propellor of the plane would actually spin, someone behind them cleared his throat for attention. It was Face! Finally!  
The spell was broken. Murdock looked up in relief. And so did Kate.

"Oh mister Luke, I hope you are feeling better" Kate said, beaming at Face.  
"Thank you my dear." He said with a weak voice, holding his stomach with one hand and his suitcase in his other.  
"But please, just call me Luke, and don't you worry, I'll live" Face added with sad puppy dog eyes, a look that was pleading for cuddles.  
"He's milking this as much as he can" Murdock thought with a suppressed grin, relieved that Face finally showed up. He was running out of distractions coming from the Murdock database.

"I'd like to go home and lie down a bit, but first I need to handle this business with you". Face said, gently leading Kate to the counter by her elbow. Looking her in the eyes as he did and using all his charms he added: "We came to pick up the Tiffany lamp, which we purchased yesterday".  
Kate's eyes widened. "The lamp? But mister Mitchell didn't tell me that he sold it yet. Surely he would've told me".  
Face looked troubled. "Oh dear, oh dear. He must've forgotten to tell you then. But if it helps, he gave me an invoice".  
Reaching the counter, Face pulled open his briefcase and took the invoice out of it, handing it over to Kate.  
Kate took it from him and examined it closely. Frowning slightly, her eyes lingered a little longer than usual on the signature.  
Murdock held his breath, but Face kept his features calm and innocent.  
"This seems to be in order." Kate finally said after a few more seconds.  
Murdock started breathing again, and Face sent her a dazzling smile.

A couple of minutes later Face and Murdock walked out of the store with a big box containing the rare Tiffany lamp. Face beamed while Murdock huffed and puffed, carrying the box.  
"That went marvelous, didn't it?" Face said with a satisfied grin on his mouth.  
"It did", Murdock admitted. "But nevertheless, I'm a little bit disappointed in you Face".  
Face turned his head to his friend with a look of confusion on his handsome features  
"How come?" He said, his voice sounding a little hurt.  
"Well, for starters, you didn't even get her phone number", Murdock said, struggling with the box in his arms. "You're losing your touch, brother".  
Face was just about to comment on that, when the sound of a bell jingled behind them, and an agitated Kate came running out of the store.  
"Gentlemen!" She called after the men.  
Murdock and Face momentarily gazed at each other with horror-struck on their faces. Did she catch up with their scam already?  
Kate caught up with the men and slipped a little piece of paper in Face's hand (who quickly smoothed his worried expression to a more neutral one).  
"You forgot your receipt", she said with reddened cheeks, giving the man a small wink before returning to the store again.  
Face looked down at the paper in his hand and a smile appeared from ear to ear.  
"What is it?" Murdock asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow  
"Her phone number", Face grinned.


	9. Chapter 9 - a warehouse of horror

* * * NOTE * * *  
Oh boy, this one ends with quite a cliff hanger. Hope you like the story so far :)  
It's quite a long chapter, due to the fact that I felt the need to explain a bit about the building the guys are in. I hope I managed to do so without slowing down the story.

Chapter 9 - A warehouse of horror

Dave was driving the two men to Joe's Antique Store.  
When Dave parked his car at the parking lot in front of the building, Hannibal was impressed seeing how big it was. The Antique store used to be a very big farmhouse that had been turned into a store. It was located on private grounds and had a spacious barn at the backside that was connected to the house. It was situated on the outer edge of the town, though close enough to attract enough visitors.  
At the entrance of the building was a big parking lot, and that was where they were standing now.  
Stepping out of the car, Hannibal checked his surroundings and gave the building a good look.  
Behind him, B.A angrily kicked the car door open with one of his big army boots and struggled himself out of the small space that had captured him so disrespectfully. When noticing the small grin on Hannibal's face, he gave the man an annoyed stare.  
"Ain't funny" he mumbled, re-arranging his golden necklaces.  
"Depends on whose shoes you're standing in", Hannibal answered cheekily.

Dave joined them.  
"Well, this is the place. Welcome to Joe's Antique store", he said. Beckoning them to follow him Dave opened the entrance door and let the two men enter the building.

"We're going to use the front door now," Dave told the men. "But there is also an entrance at the back of the building. The store is connected to a big barn, which we call the warehouse. That's where we usually load and unload our truck after a scavenger hunt. And we also have our own repair shop where we refurbish the antiques."  
Hannibal nodded. B.A looked interested.

There was a counter close to the entrance with an elderly lady sitting behind it called Roseanne. She nodded politely when Dave introduced her to the men.  
"Our dear Rosy is our shopkeeper and also our hostess," Dave explained. "She specializes in antique furniture from 1900 and can tell you all about it. Plus she also does all of our accounting."  
Roseanne smiled shyly at Dave, who gave her a smile and a wink and then continued his guided tour through the building.

The first impression when entering the old farmhouse was one of a big old European manor due to antiques that filled the space. The showroom was very spacious and filled with all types of cabinets, wardrobes, tables, paintings, chandeliers, lamps, globes, trinkets and other ornaments that were tastefully placed together. It was a weird mix-match of styles from different eras, but somehow it visually all worked well together.  
Some customers were walking around, talking in soft voices while occasionally pointing at something that caught their interest.  
"So this is the showroom", Dave explained. "But we are now heading towards the back of the building, which we call the warehouse. It's a big barn that is connected to the farmhouse."  
B.A and Hannibal followed the man closely, both paying extra attention to their surroundings.  
"And that's also the place where most accidents have happened." Dave continued while opening a door leading them into a workshop.  
"So finally, welcome to the warehouse", he said, moving his arm in a welcoming gesture, his cheerful face showing a proud smile.  
"As you can see, we have a workshop to refurbish antiques and in the back, we have a stockroom where we keep our more valuable antiques. If you go through that exit door over there," Dave pointed at the garage door that was big enough to let in a truck and was situated at the far back of the barn, "You will find an extra parking lot where the employees park their cars out of sight. And that's also the place where we usually load and unload our truck and delivery van.

B.A looked around and nodded approvingly. This workshop was something he enjoyed seeing.  
The room was spacious and bright and smelled like a mixture of varnish, paint and old wood. There was a huge workbench placed in the middle of the room. On top of it lay pieces of an old art deco lamp and a small wooden sofa table that needed a new paint job.  
Two more workbenches were placed against a wall, filled with some tools, old books and some small antiques that needed refurbishing. Scattered around were a bunch of big cabinets, tables, and chairs. Some placed against a wall, while others just seem to stand there randomly, waiting for their turn to be renovated. It looked like a maze of furniture in which you could get lost if you strayed away too far.  
B.A noticed that one of the walls was covered with tools. It looked like they were ordered into a system, so it would be easy to find the right equipment when you needed it. Most tools, however, were meant for woodwork.  
Even though B.A was a mechanic by heart, he appreciated a properly equipped workshop. He'd loved to work in a space like this, though perhaps it should look a bit more like a garage where he could tinker on cars and invent new tracking systems or listening devices for the team.  
Hannibal looked impressed too but then concentrated on his job again.  
"Tell me, Dave, can you give me some details on the accident with Joe's son, Mike. Where did it happen for instance?"  
Dave nodded again and guided Hannibal and B.A to the place where it happened.

Hidden behind an antique filing cabinet, a tall and dark haired figure was crouching in the shadows.  
Staring at the three men who had just entered the workshop he cursed silently under his breath. He had just loaded his pickup truck and was about to leave when he discovered that he'd left his coat in the workshop. How careless of him.  
Just when he picked it up from one of the workbenches, the exit door to the showroom had opened. His first reaction was jumping behind one of the cabinets to hide out of sight. Not really something a man with a clear conscience would do. And now he was trapped.  
Peeking around the corner of his cabinet, his dark eyes stared at the white haired man and recognized him. He had seen the man standing in the window of Joe's house, only just an hour or two ago. But he knew he had seen the man with the gold and mohawk too….earlier that morning…at the tank station.

"Damn, what are they doing here? Do they work for Joe, or….?" The man wasn't sure.  
He didn't want to be seen right now. Not now he had this precious cargo loaded in the back of his truck. If they spotted him right here it would look bad and it would immediately lead any trails right towards him if they found out what he had done. He needed to get away to his truck unseen, but how? He was already happy he'd avoided the other employee so far. But the problem was that these men were now standing right between him and the exit door, which was the fastest way to get to his truck unseen. The man looked at B.A and Hannibal, sizing them up and wondering if he could outrun them.  
Dave wasn't a problem. He could easily walk past Dave without him feeling any suspicion. But not now. Not now the man wasn't alone. What if the two men managed to stop him and questioned him? He just couldn't afford that right now. Not after what he was planning to do.

As Dave led B.A and Hannibal to the storage area of the building, another man came in from the parking lot, carrying an old-fashioned nightstand with a leg missing.  
Dave introduced him as Patrick, one of Joe's newer employees.  
Patrick was big and bulky and was covered in tattoos. His head was shaven and in his neck, he had a tattooed dark green faded skull. He had an unfriendly face, and his small eyes narrowed when he checked out B.A and Hannibal.  
He didn't shake hands and walked into the workshop without saying a word. Hannibal turned around and scrutinized the man.  
"Problem colonel?" B.A asked discretely when Dave was looking away.  
"I'm not sure yet sergeant, but I don't like the man's vibes".  
"Vibes? You startin' te sound like Murdock", B.A grinned.  
"But you know what I mean right?" Hannibal asked, looking B.A in the eyes.  
B.A nodded grimly. "Guy just doesn't feel right".

Dave showed them the part of the warehouse where Mike's accident happened. "This is where the cabinet fell." He said grimly. Hannibal looked up and noticed there was an open loft containing even more old furniture, vintage adverts, road signs, lamps, and trinkets. They looked dusty and unused as if they had been stacked away a long time ago.  
"Forgotten perhaps", Hannibal thought. He was starting to wonder _how much junk_ a man could collect.  
On both sides of the loft was a ladder with a stair gate leading up to the extra storage space. On the roof hang an old pulley that was probably used to pull up the heavier furniture. There didn't seem to be any real barrier between the stacked objects and the outer edge of the loft. Someone could easily push a cabinet or whatnot over the edge and drop it on someone who happened to be standing there without getting noticed.  
"Exactly what happened to Mike" Hannibal mused. He decided he wanted to investigate it after the tour.

Their last stop was outside. On the small parking lot stood a big truck that Joe occasionally used to scavenge new antiques, most of the time accompanied by Dave. The vehicle wouldn't start now, and they believed that it had been sabotaged again.  
"That sounds like a perfect job for B.A." Hannibal said, looking at B.A and slapping him on the shoulder.  
"There ain't nothing in the world he can't fix", he added proudly.  
B.A shrugged as if he didn't care, but nevertheless looked a little bit pleased.  
Hannibal turned around to face Dave.  
"Thanks for the tour around this place, son,spreadeagled" He said.  
"B.A is going to work on the truck while I'll be investigating the barn".  
Dave looked relieved that his work was finally done. He excused himself to make a few phone calls and disappeared into a little office at the side of the warehouse.  
Hannibal and B.A were alone again. Standing in the parking lot next to the truck, Hannibal checked his watch.  
"I expect Face and Murdock will be joining us soon". He told B.A.  
"Good! Gonna need ma tools from the van", B.A grunted while opening the hood of the truck and peeking inside.  
Hannibal lit a fresh cigar.  
" 'Kay, good luck tinkering. I'm going to have another look inside," Hannibal said, casually entering the warehouse.

While walking towards the workshop area he looked around. He hadn't seen that guy Patrick anymore. Where did that creep wander off to? His eyes searched between the scattered furniture.  
Suddenly Hannibal's muscles tensed. He saw someone peeking at him from behind a cabinet and ducking away the moment their eyes met. For a split second, Hannibal recognized those eyes. Drawing his gun he yelled: "Who is there! Show me your face!"  
From that moment, things happened very quickly. The tall dark figure behind the cabinet started running, and Hannibal immediately started chasing after him.  
The man was quick, but running between all this furniture was quite a challenge. Hannibal was better at this sort of chasing due to years of practice and was starting to catch up.  
"Stop!" He yelled, but the figure disappeared behind a stack of big wardrobes.  
Hannibal slowed down. He peeked around the corner, expecting an attack any moment. But he didn't see a trace of the man, nor did he hear any more running footsteps. The man was hiding somewhere, he could feel it in his gut.  
With his gun drawn, Hannibal crouched around one of the wardrobes. Without any warning, he pulled open one of the doors pointing his gun at its insides. Empty! Hannibal tried two more wardrobes, but all with the same result. Damnit!  
Suddenly he heard a grinding sound right above him. Checking his surroundings, Hannibal hadn't noticed until now that he was standing right below the loft. The very same spot Mike had been standing before...  
Somewhere above him, he heard a man scream: "NOOOO!". The next moment he looked up and saw a heavy table coming down. There was no time to jump away properly. Hannibal had only half a second to dodge it and was too late to do anything more than jumping sidewards, covering his head with his arms. The table hit him nevertheless.

"HANNIBAL?" B.A yelled. He had heard the noises coming from inside the warehouse and ran inside to see Hannibal getting hit by the table and falling to the floor.  
He wasn't moving.  
"HANNIBAL!", B.A yelled again.

Hannibal lay spread-eagled on the cold floor. Part of the table top lay upside down, partly covering his chest. The other pieces of the table lay spread around him on the ground.  
He opened his unfocused eyes halfway and looked up into the eyes of the dark-haired man again. Crouching over the edge of the loft, the man looked down at him with horror struck on his face. Then the man quickly turned his head and looked sideways, widening his eyes even more and then bolted. He skidded down the ladder, sprinted past B.A (who gave him an angry glance but kept running toward his colonel), and disappeared through the exit door.  
Hannibal Tried to apprehend what he just saw. What was the man looking at? What scared him? But before he could give it any more thought, a big cloud of darkness covered his vision, and he blacked out.  
He didn't notice B.A crouching over him, grabbing the tabletop and tossing it angrily away from his friend.  
"Hannibal..?", B.A muttered with concern in his voice. He gently nudged the colonel's shoulder. There was no response.  
In horror he watched a small drop of blood trickling down from Hannibal's temple...


	10. Chapter 10 - an almost hit

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hey there, thanks for the reviews again! My apologies for any suspense caused by the earlier cliffhanger (hehe - not!).  
It took me a little bit longer to work on this chapter.  
Still, there is lots of mystery going on huh? But I promise, there will be answers. Next chapter should be interesting with a revelation. Hang on tight.

Chapter 10 - an almost hit

Face and Murdock were on their way to Joe's Antique Store, the lanky pilot driving the van.

Murdock had changed back into his own outfit again, which made him feel way more comfortable.  
Face was sitting next to him on the passenger's seat with a roadmap on his lap. The conman glanced out of the window from time to time and gave instructions when to take a turn. Murdock sat behind the wheel with slightly sweaty palms. He was wearing a huge golden necklace around his neck and kept throwing nervous glances at Face, who didn't notice.  
"I don't know Face…" Murdock suddenly blurted, "The van is still shimmying a little to the left when B.A ain't drivin' it'. Will you do me a favor and sit behind me with the lamp on your lap to distribute the weight a little? I.. I don't want to hit a fire hydrant or somethin'"  
Noticing the blank stare and raised eyebrows from Face, Murdock sighed: "It's just that I don't have bricks to use as a contra-weight this time. And I'm pretty sure the big guy tuned the suspension of his ride to compensate for all that gold he's wearing"  
Murdock pointed at the steering wheel and added matter of factly: "Hence the shimmyin'.."  
"Ah..!" Face who had been concentrating on the roadmap finally understood what his friend was talking about and couldn't help but send Murdock a frustrated 'there-we-go-again-look.  
Murdock who didn't notice (concentrating on the road) continued his quick babbling: "And I only hid one golden necklace in the van in case I would need some jewelry.  
The pilot glanced at Face with a lopsided grin: "Don't tell B.A though!  
I only nicked, er.. I mean, 'borrowed' it from him when he was polishing his collection, you know… It's the only time he takes them off, or when he takes a shower. (And I don't want to be anywhere near him when he takes a shower!) But I don't think this particular necklace has enough weight to compensate for the absence of the mighty Baraco-one".  
Face was concentrating on the map again and only half-listening to Murdock's ramblings. He had gotten quite used to it by now.  
During the years he'd learned to ignore the flood of words until they would fade away. Sometimes it was better to not talk back in case you triggered the rambling man into another flow of babbling. It could continue for a full hour or longer if he wasn't stopped. Most of the time B.A was the one who could get Murdock to shut up at some point.  
"So will you do it?" Murdock urged again, glancing at the conman with an agitated expression on his face.  
"Uh, Do what?" Face asked a little bewildered.  
"Sit in the back seat behind me with the lamp?" Murdock insisted.  
"Oh that..! Umm... no Murdock, ..No, I'm not going to do that," Face said, trying his best not to sound harsh. "I'm sure the van will be fine and I need to keep an eye on the road."  
Murdock threw him an accusing dark stare.  
"Really, Murdock!" Face snapped. "Besides, we're almost there. See?" He pointed at a sign that said: 'Joe's Antiques - right turn - 3 miles'.  
Murdock gave it a few seconds of thought before giving in.  
"Oh, I guess you're right, Faceman," he sighed, relaxing a little.  
"Maybe I'm just fuzzin' too much. We're almost there and so far nothin' bad has happened".  
"Good" Face said with relief, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Very good".  
"Now take a turn right at the end of the road and you can deliver this puppy safe and sound to B.A".  
Finally reaching their destination, Face pointed at another sign saying 'Delivery entrance only', leading them to the back of the building.  
"Take that turn over there Murdock. Hannibal said it would be best for us to park the van out of sight"  
Murdock did as he was instructed, relieved that he'd managed to deliver the vehicle spick and span.  
Calmly turning the van around the corner his eyes suddenly widened. An old pick-up truck with a faded logo was speeding right at them! The truck was honking loudly as Murdock tried to avoid it by frantically turning the wheel to get them off the narrow one-way road.  
Avoiding a frontal collision with only a few inches, the pick-up soared by with roaring engine. With shrieking brakes, the black van stopped on the grassy roadside in a cloud of dust. Murdock took a gulp of breath, realizing they'd just barely escaped a serious accident. His hands that were still clasping around the steering wheel showed white knuckles.

Behind them, the pick-up truck made a sharp turn and sped out of sight.  
"Geez, What was that all about? Face panted, wiping sweat from his brow. Murdock had a disconcerted expression on his face.  
"You okay buddy?" Face asked.  
"Yeah..thinkso.." Murdock replied vaguely, while thinking fast.  
Then he quickly started the motor of the van, put it in gear and hit the gas pedal hard. Face fell backward in his seat.  
" I have a really bad feeling about this..." Murdock muttered while steering the van back onto the lane and speeding the last few yards towards the parking lot. All safety for their trusty ride was completely forgotten.  
"Somethin's wrong, something's _very_ wrong", was all the pilot could think.  
With shrieking tires, Murdock stopped the van right in front of the back entrance. Half stumbling over his feet, he scrambled out and started running towards the building, yelling B.A's and Hannibal's name.  
"Over here!" B.A's voice came from inside. Murdock immediately sped up another notch and ran towards B.A's voice with Face right on his heels.  
When entering the building, the pilot suddenly stopped in track, trying hard to understand the scene in front of his eyes. The conman almost crashed right into him and stopped as well with shock plastered over his face.  
A few yards away they saw B.A crouching over the colonel with concern in his eyes. The latter lay motionless on the ground with the pieces of a crashed table next to him. "No!" Murdock whispered looking horrified. His heart suddenly felt frozen. Running the last few yards and falling hard on his knees next to Hannibal's motionless body, Murdock stared down at his colonel's features while his heart was pounding in his throat.  
He was just going to call out Hannibal's name when the colonel slowly opened his eyes. The man frowned slightly as his eyes needed some time to focus. Then a thin smile appeared on his face.

"Hello son", Hannibal croaked, while looking up at the captain. "How're things?"

* * *

Dave hurried from his office armed with a big first aid box and a bottle of water in his hands when he saw that the older man and the big guy were now accompanied by the other two team members.  
"Is he conscious again?" He asked slightly out of breath while noting that the man with the pilot jacket was holding his (slightly protesting) commander in a tight embrace.  
The white-haired man was still laying on the ground but tried to sit up. Dave heard a muffled "I'm-fwine-Muwdock-I'm-fwine!", from behind the crazy man's arms.

"Leave him alone fool, give 'im some air!", boomed the dark and rumbly voice of B.A.

Face, who'd sat down on his knees next to Hannibal (despite the risk of his suit pants getting smudged), noticed that B.A's tone of voice had been a bit softer than usual.  
Murdock quickly released the colonel with flushed cheeks while muttering an embarrassed apology.  
"Sorry, col'nel. I let myself go a little ..."  
Face turned around and accepted the water and first aid kit from a concerned looking Dave.  
"Thanks, Dave. It looks like our boss's gonna be fine." he said with great relief in his blue eyes.  
"I am really happy to hear that", Dave said, taking some steps back to allow them space.  
Murdock eyed Dave from the corner of his eyes and let out an audible snort. Dave glanced at the captain for a second but decided to ignore it.

Hannibal, who'd finally released himself from Murdock's embrace, slowly sat up while gingerly touching the bump on his head. Checking his gloved hand he'd noticed something sticky... Blood.. He felt dizzy and his body felt unusually stiff, but he knew he would live. B.A examined his commander sternly with a dark but worried frown on his brow.  
"I'm fine." Hannibal reassured him "Just a bad headache and probably some bruises." He winced as he checked his arms and ribs for broken bones. He felt relieved not finding any, but there were bruises alright.  
B.A dragged an old and faded Chesterfield armchair closer to the scene and helped Hannibal to sit down in it. He noted that the older man still felt a bit weak even though he was pretending to be fine. B.A figured his commander probably tried his best not to worry his men too much.  
"Drink!" B.A commanded, giving Hannibal the opened bottle of water and some painkillers that Face handed him.  
The corners of Hannibal's mouth twitched slightly as he obeyed his sergeant and took the pills.  
"Yes sir", he mumbled before taking a mouth full of water and washing the pills away.  
Face examined the wound on Hannibal's head. "It looks like it already stopped bleeding. All I see is a bad graze. It looks like you don't need any stitches, Hannibal. Though you could use an ice pack for the swelling."  
"Lucky me.." Hannibal said grimly, grimacing slightly at the touch of Face hands. "I might need some for my ribs too. That table may not have been a dining table, but it could still have done its job properly and smash my brains right out of my skull. I was lucky that I heard the scream first."  
Dave cleared his throat. "I am going to see if we have some ice packs available"  
Murdock followed the young man with narrowed eyes, before turning to Hannibal again.  
"Who screamed?" He asked.  
Hannibal rubbed his forehead for a second, thinking hard. His train of thought was still a bit slow. Meanwhile, Face was carefully cleaning the wound on his head.  
"I think it was the same guy we saw at the farmhouse earlier this afternoon." Hannibal sighed lowering his hand.  
"It was that man I saw outside the fences of the farm today. I'm pretty sure of it. Then I saw him hiding here! He panicked and tried to run and I chased him before he hid in that loft and threw a table on top of me."  
Hannibal looked confused for a moment.  
"Or that's what I think he did.. but _did_ he now..?" Hannibal's mind wandered off again.  
Face closed the first aid kit.  
"Well, that's all I can do for now. I think you should try and get some rest tonight colonel".

A telephone rang and Dave, who had returned to the office, stuck a head around the door.  
"It's for you colonel. It's Joe", he said.  
"No rest for the wicked", Hannibal said, smiling wryly at Face.  
He carefully stood up from his chair and walked on slightly wobbly legs to the office, his men protectively accompanying him.

While they were waiting at the office door, B.A suddenly noticed Murdock's golden necklace and recognized it as his own.  
"Hey fool! Where did ya get my necklace?!" He barked at the lanky man who jumped at least 10 inches before recovering.  
"Er.. a vending machine?" Murdock tried innocently, swallowing hard.  
Registering the angry snarl on B.A's face he winced and tried again. "Won it at the wheel of fortune?"  
Seeing his enemy slowly advancing on him, he added "Er... found it in a cereal box?"  
"Wrong answer" B.A growled, moving toward the pilot. "Give it back, it's mine!".  
"Yes -yes of course it's yours" Murdock stammered with a meager smile while simultaneously expanding the distance between himself and the rising threat in front of him. He quickly took off the necklace and tossed it at B.A who furiously snapped it from the air. The gold-clad man stopped in track to examine the piece of jewelry for any damage. Finding none, he calmed down a bit and put it around his neck.  
"Ehmm...I may need it back though," Murdock said bravely.  
B.A's head snapped back up. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the pilot disbelievingly.  
"What?!"  
Face, who'd been watching the whole scene in slight amusement, facepalmed himself noticing B.A's temper rise again. Murdock seemed to be quite unaware this time.  
"Well, it's quite handy to have a backup weight available in the van when you are not around to drive,". Murdock explained while shrugging.  
"So I always keep some stuff hidden in the van, like that necklace of yours."  
"You hidin' stuff in _MY van_?! " B.A barked, his voice rising in anger.  
"Of course I do!", Murdock said, still not noticing the slightly expanding nostrils of his fuming opponent. "Why do you think we survive all our missions? That's because I ' _always_ ' have a secret weapon hidden in the van that can be of use."  
The pilot started ticking off a list on his fingers: "I've got shoelaces, dog cookies, buckles, my collection of Pez dispensers, space hamsters... You know, stuff that can be useful. _Someone's_ gotta do it!"

That was the last drop. B.A's temper hit cooking point as he launched at the pilot. Just in time, the crazy man leaped out of harm's way and started running.  
"Eat heel dust, sucka!" he cackled as he dashed away with arms and legs pumping vigorously with the ill-tempered sergeant hot on his heels.  
"Oh no, don't challenge him Murdock..." Face sighed, rubbing his temples wearily.  
Hannibal who'd finally finished his phone call with Joe came out of the office to join the conman.  
"What's this?" He asked, folding his arms and frowning at the scene in front of him.  
"Oh you know... boys will be boys." Face said with a smirk on his face while watching a loudly cursing B.A chasing a high-pitched screaming pilot through the warehouse.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11 - Strange encounters

* * * * * NOTE * * * *  
Wow, finally finally, I found some time to finish this long chapter and post it here. I hope you still enjoy the story. It ends with some action today!  
Thanks for your reviews guys!

 **Chapter 11: Strange encounters**

The sun was setting over the hills, changing the color of the sky into a deep orange glow. The A-team was on their way back to their clients farmhouse. Hannibal was pensively smoking his cigar while admiring the beautiful dusk in front of them. He clutched an ice pack against his ribs with his bruised arm. killing two birds with one stone, so to say.  
Dave had stayed behind at the warehouse. He told them that he had to finish some business first before joining them for dinner.  
Joe had promised Hannibal to call to the warehouse whenever he and Patty were on their way home from the hospital after they visited their son. As soon as Hannibal hung up the phone, and gathered his men (with some difficulty because B.A was still chasing Murdock) they left. He wanted to be the first one to arrive at the farm to check the house and its perimeter for unwanted company. Hannibal didn't want his clients to be alone at the house tonight, especially not after his own encounter during the day. He feared another ambush on the family was lurking around the corner, and the guy who had attacked him had unfortunately gotten away. For some reason, the colonel couldn't be sure if this man was the same person who attacked their client's son Mike. But he had a feeling there was a connection at least. It was too much of a coincidence that his own 'accident' happened at exactly the same circumstances today. Hannibal cursed himself for not being more careful.

With a sore arm, a bruised rib and a still slightly throbbing head, he took another puff from his cigar. He needed to think. The van was unusually quiet. All men looked on edge. Hannibal glanced at B.A who didn't show any emotion in his face while keeping his eyes on the road. But he could tell from the occasional glances shot in his direction and the tensed muscles in his arms that the big man was on high alert and worried about his commander. And so were the other two, he noticed, using the rearview mirror.

"Sooo.." Hannibal broke the silence (all three men jumped).  
"Have you boys managed to pick up that little parcel today?" Hannibal asked, turning his seat around to face the two men in the back.  
Face nodded. He relaxed a little and beamed at the colonel. "Yep. And may I add it went as smooth as a well-oiled racing wagon?"  
Murdock pointed at the box with the Tiffany lamp safely strapped between their seats. "The most hideous thing you'll ever see, colonel", he added, making a face.  
"Fantastic", Hannibal grinned. This little bit of good news lifted his spirits again.  
"That should poke that big ugly bear Mitchell out of his cave, don't you think?" He added with a mischievous glint in his eyes.  
Face sent him a wry smile. "What's your plan, Hannibal?" He asked non-enthusiastically.  
"Well, tonight will be fairly easy. We guard the family and we take watch around the house."  
Hannibal slightly shifted in his seat to avoid the pain in his ribs. "As for tomorrow, I am expecting a certain unwanted visitor at Joe's antique store, and we need to be prepared. Setting up some 'bear traps' as we go." Hannibal said, already enjoying the thought of it.  
"And I need to go through the employee list with Joe tonight. I have a bad feeling about this Patrick we met today, right B.A?".  
B.A nodded, a frown appearing on his face.  
"Who's Patrick?" Face asked.  
"Ah of course, you two haven't met him yet." Hannibal said. He quickly gave them a short summary of the event.  
"Somethin' about him ain't right". B.A rumbled.  
Hannibal shrugged. "Yes. But maybe it was just bad manners" He looked pensively at B.A, knowing the man had a good hunch about people.  
"But I feel we need to keep a close eye on him if he ever shows up tomorrow." Hannibal continued. " We don't know where he was during the attack today, and I haven't seen him after the attack either, which I strike as odd. We know he only started working for Joe a few weeks ago, and we need to consider that the recent sabotage and accidents may have been caused by an insider…."  
The guys nodded, all silently with their own thoughts.

Arriving at the farmhouse, the team did a quick perimeter check.  
Satisfied that they didn't find anything, they waited for Patty and Joe to arrive.  
Soon they all sat around the kitchen table having dinner together. Patty had prepared a crockpot that morning, and it smelled delicious. All men happily dug in. Patty smiled, looking around at the full table. She had started to develop a liking for this strange assortment of men whom she only met that morning. Even though she'd never seen a weirder bunch of characters like them before, something about them was comforting. There was this strange chemistry going on that simply worked. She enjoyed seeing them eating and making jokes. Murdock, who had hung his jacket and cap over his chair, nudged B.A, pointing at something on the table and making a remark that made the dark man growl. Face shushed the big guy quietly and Hannibal chuckled.  
The only people missing were Dave, who was still at the warehouse, and of course their son Mike.  
Patty's mood dropped at the thought of her son. She sighed quietly, wiping a white strand of hair from her eyes. The thin lines on her face hardened from grief and worry about her son. There had been no progress in Mike's condition yet.  
Face, sitting next to Patty, looked up and noticed the woman's paled face and sad expression. He bent forward and started a quiet conversation with the elderly woman in an attempt to comfort her. Patty smiled. "You're such a sweet lad, you know that?" She patted Face gently on the hand.  
Murdock, noticing the gesture between the two people, smiled inwardly. He knew that his buddy really cared. It was so typical of him to try and comfort people he'd see hurting. In age, Patty could be Face's mom.  
Heck, she could even be his own mom for that matter. Suddenly Murdock thought of his mother who died when he was only seven years old. At times he still missed her very much. Face had never known his mom. Maybe that was why he always felt concerned for elderly ladies in need.  
Murdock took a small bite from his plate and glanced at Patty again, who, thanks to Face, was smiling now. They were going to help these people, no matter what!

In the meantime, Hannibal had given Joe an update on the events of the day and was asking specific questions about all their employees. Murdock drew his attention back to the conversation while B.A hungrily took seconds from Patty's dish.  
"I think you've met most of my staff by now." Joe said pensively putting down his fork on the table. "I understand you've met Rosy and Patrick?"  
"We did", Hannibal nodded.  
Joe took a sip from his beer and continued: "Roseanne is our accounting lady, but also our shopkeeper. Patrick is our delivery guy and handyman. He picks up and delivers our goods, and when something needs to get fixed, he's our man too. He seems to be quite good with electricity and mechanics.  
Then of course there is Dave. You guys already had a chance to get to know him today. We know him for a couple of years now and he lives with us in this house. I guess he's become part of the family. He's a cheerful kid with a big heart"  
"Hmmpf" Murdock mocked, a little bit too loudly.  
Jumping at his own sound, he looked up to meet Hannibal's piercing blue eyes. He hastily looked down at his plate again.  
B.A and Face also looked up and glanced slightly bewildered at the pilot.  
With slightly flushed cheeks Murdock continued picking his almost untouched food with his fork. Patty briefly glanced at Murdock with a raised eyebrow, but then focused on her husband again.  
Joe, who didn't notice the small interruption at all, continued.  
"Dave does some of our refurbishing, and he and my son Mike often go on scavenger hunts with me. Finding 'new antiques' so to say." Joe smiled.  
"The boy's clever and, like Mike, he's got a very good eye for the trade. I bet he'd love to take over the business some day. But so does Mike.  
Sometimes it seems there is a bit of a rivalry going on between the two. Like it's a contest who finds the best antiques during a field trip"  
Joe chuckled, looking sorrowful at his wife. "Of course they're just making fun."  
Hannibal nodded, taking note of every word Joe said. He casually glanced at Murdock and was startled for a second.  
Murdock, who had stopped picking at his food, was now staring at Joe with a darkened expression on his face that Hannibal didn't recognize from his usually so cheerful captain. Hannibal made a mental note to talk with his pilot after dinner.  
"Are those all your employees, Joe?", the colonel asked, continuing the conversation.  
"Almost. We have two more, though one of them is away on a leave" Joe answered. "We usually have Christopher for the deliveries and pickups, but sadly he had an accident three weeks ago and is now coping with a bad knee injury. Patrick is actually the guy replacing him until Chris has recovered enough from the surgery."  
"I need to pay Chris and his wife Marian a visit soon" the soft voice of Patty sounded from the opposite of the table.  
Hannibal looked up in alert. He had almost forgotten about her presence.  
Patty sighed. "I really miss them and hope that Chris will be able to return soon... I don't like this Patrick guy very much." Her eyebrow slightly puckered before continuing: "He's… I dunno..I guess I just don't like his attitude".  
Joe shrugged sheepishly. "Chris will be back soon, dear. But for now we'll have to make do with Patrick. Dave recommended him, remember? And I haven't gotten any complaints as of yet".  
Patty nodded and resigned from the conversation. Hannibal wasn't surprised to learn that Patty also had her doubts about their newest employee.  
Murdock stared blankly at his fork again. B.A, who once more helped himself to a fresh plate of food, checked on his teammate from the corner of his eyes. He noticed that the crazy man looked troubled and wasn't touching his food. "You okay, fool?", he whispered.  
Murdock looked up in surprise, slightly unfocused as if he'd had to climb out of some very deep thoughts. He nodded at the dark man with a weak smile and resumed staring blankly in front of him. B.A shrugged. He would not get anything out of Murdock now. Face, slowly sipping his beer, peered at the lanky man at the other end of the table. He was wondering what was going on in his mind.

"You mentioned 'two' more employees?" Hannibal continued the conversation. "Who's the last one?"  
"That will be Sean", Joe answered. "I bet you haven't met him yet. Sean is someone who keeps more to himself. He only visits a few times a week to work in the workshop, but he prefers working at home where he has his own studio. He refurbishes our most delicate antiques. The man has high knowledge of certain eras and art styles. Never met anyone like him before who knows 'that' much about the business. He's like a walking encyclopedia. And regarding the refurbishments, I've seen him performing miracles on furniture that looked like it had seen the last of days. He's a real pro, but a bit of a loner."  
Joe paused to take another sip of his beer. Wiping his mustache he suddenly remembered something  
" Actually. This might be something you guys would like to know. He rents the old wooden shack and barn at the far edge of our grounds. Just a few short miles from our farm at walking distance. He sometimes visits to discuss new projects."

In the distance, they could hear a door slam. All people at the table looked up when muffled footsteps approached the kitchen. Suddenly the kitchen door opened and Dave's bright face appeared.  
"Hey peeps, what's for dinner", he said with a cheerful voice. Dave entered the kitchen with a broad smile on his face. "Sorry I'm late Patty", he added, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Taking off his jacket he sat down in the empty chair next to Murdock, who immediately tensed. His grip on his unused fork increased. B.A noticing the change glared at the man sitting next to Murdock. What did the crazy fool have so much against Dave?

Patty smiled at Dave, and stood up to get him a plate and a glass of beer.  
"You're late kid", Joe said, bending over the table to pat Dave hard on the shoulder.  
"Yeah, sorry about that." Dave chuckled. "Still had some important business to take care of, you know"  
"What kinda business, oh Forcefield-man?". Murdock asked quietly, but his voice sounded slightly threatening. He was still clutching his fork, almost like a weapon now.  
Dave turned around to face Murdock, his eyebrows raised.  
"You really have to explain yourself. What's that nonsense about force fields all the time, buddy? I have no clue what you're talking about", he said innocently with an odd smile on his face.  
A tense silence fell over the kitchen. Joe and Patty looked at Murdock, completely puzzled.  
But Face, B.A and Hannibal looked alerted.  
Murdock scrutinized Dave with a dark glare on his face. Bending slightly forward, he pointed at the younger man with his fork. Dave didn't stir. He just stared back at Murdock,... unnerved, waiting..., almost challenging him.  
"Dunno, _buddy_ ", Murdock retorted. "It's your forcefield, not mine….. See?"  
As to make a point, Murdock poked at the air in front of Dave's face with his fork. Dave didn't even flinch.  
"SEE?!" Murdock said again, putting emphasis to his words.  
Getting no reaction from Dave, Murdock stared the younger man in the pale blue eyes. Putting his fork down he added: "I rest my case..".  
Hannibal stood up from the table.  
"Captain, a word if you don't mind..". The colonel looked at his pilot with a serious expression on his face and gestured toward the door leading to the corridor.  
Murdock's cheeks flushed slightly. He nodded and with a grinding sound from his chair he stood up from the table. Feeling all eyes upon him he felt like a small boy who was going to be reprimanded. Reluctantly he walked to the corridor with Hannibal following close behind him.  
Face hesitated for a minute. He looked from the clients to B.A, who looked back in concern. Then his eyes followed the two men leaving the room.  
Face gave B.A a meaningful look and said: "I'll be right back". He hoped B.A could keep the clients company and entertain them for a bit.  
B.A, who saw what was coming, looked nervously at Patty and Joe. Entertaining people wasn't really one of his specialties.  
"But the crazy fool is seein' something in his head again." He thought. "Better have Face check on him than me".  
As if nothing happened, Dave started scooping up food on his plate.  
Face glanced at him one more time, then quickly stood up and followed Hannibal and Murdock into the corridor.

The colonel had lead Murdock to the living room. After Face entered too, he closed the door behind them.  
Hannibal folded his arms and stood in front of the lanky man who seemed to shrink a little at his stare.  
"Spill it, Captain", he said sternly. "What's with that behavior you're showing us today".  
Murdock plucked at the bottom of his flannel shirt while staring at his feet, not knowing what to say or where to start.  
"You better share it with us, buddy", Face added more gently. "You know you can't keep a secret from us for long. And bottling it all up is not a healthy thing to do"  
Murdock puffed his cheeks and let out a long sigh. Walking toward the fireplace he pretended to admire the hideous little angel sculptures, decorating the shelf.  
He swallowed: "It's…. It's just... Oh I don't know!". Murdock started with visible frustration.  
"He .. the guy BUGS me!... That Dave...just….REALLY bugs me!". Murdock's voice became a bit high pitched. He started pacing in front of the fireplace, moving his arms and hands frantically while talking.  
"He's the big bad buggy boogieman of bugs,… er..no, that doesn't sound right. He's a Bugging Boogie Budging boogiewoogie, No no no no, I mean.. He's a buggable man! Geez, NO, that's not what I meant either!" The pacing increased while the crazy man was struggling for words.  
"Something with bugs ALRIGHT?!" he spat out frustrated while muttering rapidly under his breath "bugging, buggable, big eyed bug, buggle, soddin' damn buggies, bugging me" under his breath with balled fists.  
"Calm down, captain", Hannibal said with a calmer voice, approaching the agitated man cautiously.  
Murdock turned around rapidly to face Hannibal who froze on the spot, his gloved hands defensively in front of him.  
"I can't just put my finger on it colonel", Murdock said with a frustrated sigh, but with a calmer voice now. Looking at Face he added hopefully: "You believe me, don't you?"  
Face frowned at Murdock, not sure what to answer. As a professional conman, he hadn't observed any strange behavior in Dave, and Murdock was known for his paranoia sometimes. "Do 'you' think he's conning us?" He asked his friend who looked at him nervously.  
"I don't know!", said Murdock, who started his pacing again.  
"It's.. I dunno,.. just a feeling. A GUT feeling!" He paused, wearily rubbing his eyes.  
He suddenly felt so tired. It had been a long day and explaining what was going on in his chaotic mind wasn't easy. Face and Hannibal exchanged meaningful glances.  
"I'm sorry that I have to ask this but...When was the last time you've taken your medication". Hannibal asked gently.  
Murdock lowered his hand, his eyes widened slightly with anger. Was the colonel going to blame it all on his mental state? He stared at Hannibal for a moment, then at Face who looked at him in concern. He sighed. No, even though it hurt a little that they had to ask him that, he knew that the colonel was just using logic. Maybe it really was just his paranoia taking over. It had happened before, though it had been a while. What had Dave actually done to him to cause him to act this way?  
He didn't like the guy, that was a fact. But he wasn't sure why the young man agitated him so much. Did he actually give him a good reason? Murdock couldn't think of any. He just knew at first glance that he really REALLY didn't like the guy.  
Something simply didn't feel right. But it didn't make sense.  
Sticking his hands deep in his pants pocket, Murdock slumped his shoulders and looked at the ground.  
"I guess it's about time I took 'm." He answered curtly, scraping a foot over the floor.  
"But what about ' **your** ' gut feeling for Patrick, Hannibal?" He suddenly bounced back at his commander. "Is your gut feeling better then mine?"  
Hannibal already expected the question, and gave it some thought before answering.  
"We're not saying that what you say isn't true, captain". He said, putting a reassuring hand on Murdock's shoulder. "But Dave hasn't shown any signs of weird behavior and has been very helpful all day." Murdock pulled a face and shrugged.  
"But I also know that it won't be the first time you were right about something. So we'll keep an extra eye on Dave if that will comfort you." Hannibal added.  
"It would", Murdock muttered thankfully under his breath.  
"I'll let B.A know about it. He'll keep close watch on him too." Hannibal said, nudging the relieved captain and the conman to the door.  
"Let's join the others, but not until you've taken your medication first, captain. And I would encourage you to try and act more neutrally in front of Dave tonight." Hannibal said sternly, scrutinizing the pilot. He could see that Murdock was tired from a day full of sensory triggers and worries. Hannibal knew it drained the crazy man out of energy at times, resulting in a hyperactive state of mind.  
"The more important it is that he takes his medication right now. We've got a long night ahead of us." Hannibal thought, opening the living room door and walking into the corridor.  
"Before I forget. The two of you are having first watch tonight" he said casually while walking back to the kitchen with his men on his heels.  
Face moaned slightly. "There goes my beauty sleep….AGAIN." He muttered grumpily, while buttoning his suit jacket.  
Hannibal couldn't help but chuckle. Pausing at the kitchen door with his hand on the handle he whispered with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes: "By the way, Face, did you really leave poor B.A all alone with our clients just now?"  
Face gave Hannibal an apologetic smile. "You sure it's B.A we need to worry about?"  
Murdock couldn't help grinning too. He felt a bit better after the conversation, knowing his friends wouldn't let him down after all. And he was going to take his meds, just to be sure he would be okay.

A few hours later, Face and Murdock had their first watch. Hannibal and B.A went to bed early that night to catch up some extra sleep before it was their turn to take over. They both slept in their own bedroom. Hannibal shared his room with Face, and B.A shared his room with Murdock. But thanks to the current arrangements, they could both sleep privately without any snoring from a possible roommate. Hannibal still felt a bit groggy after his short but intense encounter with the piece of furniture. He needed his energy for the next watch. The colonel didn't seem to have a concussion or any serious head trauma, and he silently thanked the heavens for that. Though some sleep would do him good.

Armed with his M16 assault rifle, Face walked the dark grounds around the farmhouse. The air was cool and the moon was out, casting an eerie glow on the scenery around him. The trees gently moved in the wind, their leaves making a calming rustling sound. Until now, nothing special had happened. Except that the conman almost had a heart attack when a couple of geese (that he hadn't noticed) honked angrily at him in alarm when he passed close by their pond. Other than that, it had been quiet and peaceful.  
Nevertheless, Face was on high alert, looking for any movement or things out of place he peered in the distance. He kept thinking about Hannibal's attack that afternoon and Murdock's agitation that evening. They needed to keep their wits and he needed to expect the unexpected.  
Face wondered how his buddy was doing right now. He made sure that Murdock had taken his meds before starting the watch with him. They had a short talk, and laughed about the con they pulled off that afternoon, but Face could tell that his friend was still feeling slightly unsettled. Murdock was, like him, surveying the other part of the grounds on his own. All alone with all but his overly active mind to accompany him. And maybe his invisible dog Billy...

Face shivered slightly under his coat. It was getting chilly. He glanced at his watch and sighed in relief. Only 15 more minutes to go until their shift was over and Hannibal and B.A would come to relieve them from their duties. Nothing had happened so far.  
He was walking the perimeter for the umpteenth time now. Passing a row of bushes close to the front door of the farm house, Face suddenly freezed in track. As quickly and silently as he could he jumped behind the bushes and lay flat on his belly. Aiming his rifle he peered around the leaves to see what was causing the sound. It was quiet, and for a few seconds, all he could hear was the wind rustling through the leaves of the trees. Just as Face thought his imagination was playing tricks on him, he heard the noise again. A dark figure appeared, stealthily glancing to his left and right before walking toward the house, right at Face's hiding spot.  
The figure was clutching something in his hand. What was it? An envelope?  
Face didn't have time to think about it. The moment the figure passed the bushes he jumped up, aimed his rifle at the intruder and yelled: "HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD!"  
The figure, a tall man with dark curly hair and long arms, rapidly turned around. His dark eyes widened in surprise seeing Face, who was at least a head shorter, standing behind him. In a reflex to protect himself, he launched himself onto Face who didn't anticipate the unexpected move in time. The two men fell grappling backward into the bushes. The tall man clawed at Face's rifle, but the conman successfully prevented the move, hitting the man in his eye with his elbow. In response, Face received a firm blow to the jaw. Temporary seeing black dots, he struggled to get the heavy man from his back. Using his rifle he hit his opponent hard in the ribs. The other man howled in pain. Clutching his ribs and gasping for breath, he moved on his side, giving Face the upper hand to quickly pick himself up from the ground and point his rifle at the intruder once again. Face spit out blood on the ground. His dentist was going to love this..  
The crumpled figure on the ground moved slowly and turned his head angrily to face the armed man standing in front of him.  
Scrutinizing the intruder's face, Face's eyes suddenly widened.  
"YOU?!" He panted loudly, gazing into the man's eyes with a look of surprise.

In the farm house, lights were switched on.


	12. Chapter 12 - Revelations and forcefields

* * * * NOTE * * * *  
Wow, such a long chapter and so much explaining to do. I hope you can still follow, since it's a lot of information. Is the story over now? or will it continue? :D  
I hope you'll enjoy this one.

Chapter 12

Murdock was just passing the shed (located at the back of the farmhouse) when he heard it. A loud cry of pain. It was faint, but Murdocks' sharp hearing told him that the cry was coming from the front yard.  
His blood chilled at the sound of it. "Face!" Murdock whispered.  
Trying hard not to let panic overtake him, he started to move toward the front yard as quickly a he could in stealth mode. He forced himself to be as quick as possible, without running headlong into a possible ambush.  
Swiftly (but to his own mind agonizingly slow) he reached the front-side of the house. Hiding in the shadows and with his back against the wall, Murdock readied his rifle. Breathing deeply he quickly jumped around the corner with his weapon aimed at the scene. But the scene itself puzzled him for a split second.  
Face was having the upper-hand and seemed fine. But who was this fellow on the ground?  
"You okay Faceyman?" Murdock asked in relief while still nervously scanning their surroundings for more people.  
"I'm fine Murdock", Face replied. "This guy here has a lot of explaining to do though"  
At that same moment, the Farmhouse door opened and Hannibal and B.A stormed out, both armed with their rifles, ready to charge.  
Seeing that his men already had the situation under control, the colonel lowered his weapon and raised an arm to halt B.A.  
"Report lieutenant", Hannibal said with slight annoyance in his voice. He would've been there faster if he hadn't been delayed by Joe, who insisted on coming along with them. Feeling irritated at losing precious time, Hannibal had to persuade his client to stay behind for safety.  
"It's okay colonel" Face said, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "And I believe we've had the honour of meeting this man at the gas station this morning." He added sarcastically.  
B.A growled in anger: "That's the sucka runnin' away after attackin' you, Hannibal".  
In surprise Hannibal looked down at the captured man, whose features were illuminated by the porch lights. The man looked back with a guilt-ridden face. A small light of recognition flickered in the colonel's eyes.  
A sudden cry behind his back made him jump.  
"My God, that's Sean!", Joe cried in astonishment. Despite the colonel's orders, he'd slipped out of the house to see what was going on.

A short while later, everyone including Joe, Patty and Dave (all three still in their dressing gowns) were gathered in the kitchen around the old dining table. The rifles, within reach, leaning against the wall in the kitchen now. The event had woken up the whole house and it seemed there was some serious explaining to do. The tall dark haired man sat with slumped shoulders and a growing black eye at the head of the table. B.A who had been pleased seeing that Face had defended himself well, stood menacing behind the man to make sure he wasn't going to run off. The team decided there was no need for restraints. The man looked embarrassed enough and didn't dare to look anyone in the eye. Patty was mothering over Face's wound, carefully cleaning the blood from his face with a damp cloth. "It looks like you've split your lip, dear", she said, gently dipping the blood away. "Wouldn't be the first time", Face flinched while trying to give her a smile.  
"Sean, son, can you please tell us what's been going on", Joe asked. His voice sounded tormented. This was a man he trusted to be a friend for years.  
"What were you doing, sneaking around the house at this late hour" asked Hannibal, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a fresh cigar clenched between his teeth.  
Sean didn't dare to look up.  
Looking down at his hands he muttered with a deep low voice : "I was bringing Joe a letter of resignation."  
"Ah that's right!" Face said, reaching with a hand in his jacket pocket. He pulled out a slightly smudged envelope that was addressed to Joe and Patty and placed it on the table. "It was lying on the porch." He added.  
Everybody looked from the envelope to Sean. Joe and Patty looked puzzled and worried. Dave looked at the envelope with a somewhat worried frown on his face, wondering what his colleague had been up to.  
Murdock, leaning to the wall in the corner of the kitchen, a place that gave him a good overview, watched him silently from under his baseball cap.  
"Well, spill it son before we grow roots", Hannibal said, starting to lose his patience.  
"I was going to run for it, all right", Sean spat at the colonel in anger.  
"I was going to leave my letter under the front door and split".  
Looking at his boss with sad eyes he added: "I'm sorry Joe.. and you too Patty.  
You've been good to me. But the ground was getting too hot under my feet".  
"Why, Sean?" Joe asked, not understanding. Disappointment could be read from his face.  
"Because I know who is sabotaging your business now." Sean sighed.  
The kitchen fell silent for a moment. Joe's face turned pale. Patty clenched her hands together, and Dave shifted ever so slightly in his chair. Murdock noticed.  
"A week ago I overheard Patrick when he was on the phone. I am not sure who he was talking to, but I am guessing it was mr. Mitchell, from the other antique store. He talked about 'taking care of Mike', and he also mentioned that he would try and find a way to get hold of 'the chair'. At that time I wasn't really sure what I've overheard and didn't think much of it. Until Mike got into that accident last week, I remembered that phone call but still didn't know what to think of it. It could've been interpreted many ways.." Sean paused.  
"So what's about this chair you just mentioned?" Hannibal asked, looking at both Joe and Sean.  
Sean answered, addressing Joe as he spoke.  
"Remember that very rare 19th Century Throne-Style English Chair? The one you bragged about, because you snatched it right from under Mitchell's nose during that auction? "Joe nodded silently. Of course he remembered that. It was his best win ever.  
"That's the one you asked me to renovate next week after finishing the Pembroke tables, and that's the one you were keeping in 'the safe' because of its high value." Sean continued.  
Despite the tense atmosphere (or maybe because of it), Murdock couldn't prevent a chuckle. "HA! a chair in a safe? Next to the piles of banknotes? I'd love to see it! The chair must be itsybitsy-eenymini-supertiny, right?" To emphasize the size he meant, Murdock put a thumb and pointing finger close together in front of his face and peered through his finger tops at Sean.  
Joe looked up at Murdock, mildly irritated by the interruption. Face silently shook his head at the crazy man. But Patty patiently explained: The safe is not a real safe like the smaller ones you know, dear. We just 'call' it _the safe_ , but it's actually a small highly secured building next to the warehouse where we keep the more precious antiques. You can't enter it without a pass-code."  
"Oh… right., thanks for explaining...", Murdock mumbled sheepishly, looking a little embarrassed. B.A sent him a warning glare to keep his mouth shut from now on. Murdock firmly pressed his lips together and tried to hide in the shadows, putting his cap over his eyes a bit.  
"And that's why we were so surprised that our Tiffany lamp disappeared and then reappeared in Mitchell's store", Joe said, staring angrily at his fists on the table.  
Joe glanced up at Sean as if remembering something.  
"No-one, except from you, me and Mike, knows about the combination of that safe, Sean." Joe said. "And I only gave it to you because I trust you and because you needed access to the more valuable antiques to work on them". He added, looking at the man accusingly.  
"Either you believe me or not Joe, but apparently someone else knows that code too… Because this morning I saw Patrick entering the safe, and I know he didn't have access to it. I didn't let him know that I saw him, but managed to distract him by dropping some tools on the floor that caused some loud banging.  
He immediately ran out of the building again, to see where the sound came from, but I hid and he didn't find me. Whatever he was going to do, he didn't finish it.  
When he went inside the warehouse again I quickly entered the safe and took the chair, which I loaded into my truck."  
"So that all happened this morning, right?", Hannibal asked "Why didn't you go to Joe and Patty to inform them immediately?"  
"Yeah. We made our acquaintances at the gas station, remember?" Face tuned in sarcastically. "I returned your wallet, and you were very rude, if I may say so".  
Sean looked at him apologetically.  
"My apologies, I guess. My mind was elsewhere at that time, and you caught me off guard.… I was making preparations, needed a full tank to leave… forever.. before informing Joe and Patty. Something I was not feeling particularly good about to begin with" Sean sighed.  
Patty looked at Sean without understanding while placing a hand on Joe's fist on the table.  
"Later when I arrived at the farmhouse, I saw your van in the front yard and panicked again. I didn't know who you guys were, why you were there. Had to be careful".  
"Careful for what?" Joe asked perplexed.  
But Hannibal interrupted Joe.  
"We had an, let's say…'close encounter' this afternoon in the warehouse too, Sean…" Hannibal's voice sounded cold when he removed his cigar from the corner of his mouth. His sky blue eyes burned angrily while looking into the dark eyes of the captured man.  
"But I don't think I'll have to explain to you that I am not really fond of having tables dropping on my head from thin air. It throws shadows on my sunny disposition..."  
The three A-team members all shifted at the remark. B.A's corner of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly. The colonel just couldn't help adding a bit of humor to his words, even in a serious situation.  
"But that wasn't me!" Sean cried out. His eyes looked wildly at Hannibal, as he had the feeling that he was driven into a corner with no way out. "Really! You gotta believe me. That was Patrick!"  
Hannibal frowned and crossed his arm in front of his chest, but he let the frantic man speak. Everyone in the room tensed up, not wanting to miss any part of this conversation.  
"When I saw you guys enter the warehouse with Dave, I was just picking up some of my last things there. I remembered I still had some of my tools and a jacket there and I didn't want to leave anything that could be traced back to me afterward. I hid between the antiques and overheard some of your conversation. Then I understood that Joe hired you to help him.  
At the moment it was of no concern to me, so I wanted to try and sneak away. But then you spotted me." Sean looked at Hannibal, nervously combing a hand through his dark messy hair. "I Just panicked and ran. And when you were about to catch up with me I didn't know where to go, so I climbed into the loft. And then I found out that Patrick was there too…" Sean closed his eyes for a moment to gather his memories, then continued.  
"He didn't see me at first… way too occupied aiming that table I guess…. He was waiting for you to come closer and when I understood what he was about to do….  
Well, I screamed at him.. But I couldn't prevent the table from falling. Patrick saw me though, and he knows I am his only eyewitness. The look in his eyes when he saw me..." Sean swallowed nervously. "I just ran, man… I ran as fast as I could."  
Hannibal stared at the man for a while. He had the feeling that he was speaking the truth. But what or whom was he running from then? Why did the man want to leave.  
He turned to Joe.  
"Well.. if we believed everything Sean just told us. And that's a big 'if'. That might mean that the case is solved and you found your culprit."  
Joe nodded silently. "In that case, all that rests us to do is find Patrick", the colonel added pensively.  
"You don't have to look far", Sean sighed, looking at his hands.  
"I know where he is".  
"Oh?" The colonel turned his face to look at Sean again.  
"Where is he?" Joe asked with urgency in his voice. "You need to tell us Sean!"  
There was a short pause before Sean answered.  
"He's at my place."  
There was another moment of silence in the kitchen.  
Everyone in the room was now gazing at Sean. Dave's eyes narrowed at this bit of information.  
"This story is getting crazier and crazier, even for me", Murdock muttered under his breath, shaking his head warily. Meeting with B.A's 'shut-up-fool-glare' he immediately zipped it again.  
"Well, I told you I was his only eyewitness, didn't I?" Sean said desperately, leaning with his elbows on the table, eyes fixed on the wooden surface.  
"I was packing up my belongings… And I just finished writing you this letter here" Sean pointed at the envelope on the table. "In the letter I'm explaining everything that I am telling you right now…Then I heard a noise outside. I didn't trust it, so I took my baseball bat and went outside to see what was going on. Patrick was waiting there for me and we got into a fight. I think he wanted to get rid of me, so I couldn't tell anyone what I'd witnessed. He had his gun pointed at me and tried to push me into his car. But it was dark outside and he tripped. I had the lucky chance to overpower him. I hit him hard on the head with the bat. I didn't mean to do it that hard, but…. "Sean looked with pleading eyes at Joe and Patty. "I mean… He isn't dead, but I knocked him out cold. I was afraid he would go after me so I tied him up and moved him inside. Then I wrote an additional note to the letter, so you knew where you could find him and hand him over to the police".  
Looking shocked, Patty moved her hand over her mouth. Joe put his buffy arms around her shoulders to comfort her.

Hannibal looked pensively at Sean and then turned to Joe and Patty.  
"If Sean here..." He pointed with his thumb at the tall man, "Is telling us the truth, then it's about time that we go and collect this Patrick from his home, don't you think? B.A, you come with me.  
Face, Murdock, you two stay here with the others and make sure they are comfortable."  
Gesturing at Sean, Hannibal added: "And you are coming with us, lad".  
B.A grabbed Sean's collar and lifted him from his chair.

After the three men left, an awkward silence fell over the kitchen once more. Murdock sort of stared pleadingly at Face, hoping his friend would be able to remove the tension from the room.  
Face looked around the group and smiled. "So who's in for a nice cuppa Joe?".  
Patty, who was eager to make herself useful, immediately stood up. "Good idea, dear. Let me help you with that." She busied herself, opening cabinets to find the coffee can. Grabbing for it with shaking hands, she accidentally dropped it on the stone floor, where it landed with a loud bang that made everyone jump. The fine dark grains of coffee lay all spread over the kitchen floor.  
"Oh drats!" Patty cried out in frustration. She couldn't prevent the tears from coming any more. Putting her hands over her eyes she started to sob uncontrollably. Immediately Face turned around to put an arm around her. "There, there, it's okay, it's okay" he shushed her, guiding her to the table to sit on the chair next to Joe. Murdock had already jumped up to find a broom and busied himself swiping the coffee from the floor, whistling a little song to lighten up the mood.  
"You just let us handle this, okay?" Face said to Patty, who nodded weakly, trying hard to control her tears. Face handed Patty over to Joe, who cradled her in his arms, talking softly to her. Dave stared blankly at the scene, but didn't move a muscle.  
Within a few minutes, Murdock got rid of the coffee, while Face found another pack to fill the coffee can again. Soon a fresh pot of coffee was brewed and its rich aroma filled the room. Everyone received a steaming mug of the black beverage. Face took a thankful sip and glanced at the clock. It was already 3 in the morning. "What a day it had been." he thought. Glancing at Murdock he saw that the lanky man looked tired too. But the coffee helped them stay alert.  
A minute later they heard a door slam and footsteps walked toward the kitchen. Murdock and Face stood up in alert, their rifles (which they had kept close) readied and pointing at the kitchen door. The door opened and Hannibal's face appeared.  
"We've got him! Murdock, Face, I need you both here." was all he said. He gestured them to follow.  
"I'll explain later." Hannibal said to Joe and Patty. "Dave will keep you company, right Dave?" Dave looked up with a disturbed expression on his face, but nodded.

Face and Murdock followed Hannibal outside. The coffee and the cool air breeze helped them shake off the drowsiness and clear their heads. They walked to a place near the shed where the van was parked. The back doors were open. The garden lights near the van illuminated the scene, giving it an somewhat eery atmosphere and making the shadows look darker than usual. B.A and Sean stood next to the van, guarding a man whose hands were bound and was sitting in the trunk with his legs outside the vehicle. B.A was just putting a new sanding pad on a polishing tool. Sean was armed with a baseball bat, preventing Patrick from trying anything rash. The bald and tattooed man had a growing black lump over his right temple. Despite the fact he looked slightly dazed, his narrow eyes were gazing viciously at the approaching colonel and his two men.

"Let me go" he hissed at them.  
"No can do", Hannibal said briskly, moving Sean away from Patrick.  
"Let us do this son", he muttered to the tall man, who nodded and took a few steps out of the way of the team.  
The A-team members placed themselves in front of Patrick. The darkness casting deep shadows on their faces. Hannibal moved forward and grabbed Patrick by the collar. "You better spill your gut and tell us who you're working for, pal." He told the man who coldly stared back at him.  
"And why would I do that?", he scoffed at the colonel.  
"Because if you don't, I'll let B.A polish your bald watermelon-head real shiny, until you glimmer like a brand new bowling ball", Hannibal said with a menacing grin on his face.  
B.A who was holding the polishing machine (usually used to polish wooden furniture with), switched on the wireless power tool and let it roar.  
"Ohh, I wanna see that!" Murdock bounced with enthusiasm. "When it's done, can I give it a try at the bowling alley, colonel? Oh please, can I? can I?"  
"Sure Murdock. If mister P. here won't talk to us, you're free to have a go at it". Hannibal nodded.  
"Goodie!" Murdock chirped.  
With a Cheshire-cat smile on his face he bent a little closer to Patrick, adding behind his hand: "I do a pretty good Fred Flintstone impression, you know".  
Patrick started to look slightly worried at this bit of news coming from someone who didn't appear to be exactly right in his mind. But he shrugged off the fear and tightened his lips. "You think you can scare me? I'm not gonna talk",  
"Okay, have it your way", Hannibal said. "B.A?"  
As on cue, B.A started the engine of the power tool again and slowly approached the now sweating man.  
"Gonna add some bling to yo' head!" B.A joked.  
"Wha! B.A, did you just make a joke?" Murdock asked astonished.  
B.A merely snarled at him, while grabbing Patrick by the collar and moving the roaring power tool closer to his head.  
"You...You can't do this!" Patrick screamed, keeping his eyes on the tool that was coming closer and closer.  
"Sure he can." Face said with a raised voice, competing with the sound of the polisher. "To be honest, I don't think there is anything B.A can't do." he added, smiling at the dark man who smiled back approvingly.  
"Except maybe winning a miss Universe contest...He's wayyyy too ugly", Murdock pondered loudly, looking B.A up and down.  
"Shut up fool!" B.A switched off the machine and turned around to face the crazy man who backed away a few steps to hide behind Hannibal.  
"Yes, but you're not really a treat to look at either, are you?", Face told Murdock, who gave him a deeply offended look.  
"You are all nuts, man!" Patrick said with more bravado in his voice then he actually felt.  
"Ohhh Nein, Ai am die only wan who's nuts man", Murdock said with his weirdest German accent, stepping from behind Hannibal to face Patrick again.  
"Aive got papers and everythink! Die others howevar are bell peppers"  
There was a short puzzled silence.  
"Bell Peppers, Murdock? really?" It was Face's time to look offended now.  
"Yes of course!" Murdock said. "They are very good for you, full of vitamine A, B and C. They are a very good source of folate, molybdenum, vitamin E, dietary fiber, vitamin B2, pantothenic acid, niacin and potassium".  
Patrick started to look a bit pale in the face. Looking from one crazy man to the other he couldn't predict what was going to happen next. His predicament was suddenly looking poorly.  
Hannibal merely chuckled.  
"Really Murdock, you start to sound like an encyclopedia". The colonel said, shaking his head.  
"Now where were we?" Ah. I believe B.A was going to polish his head".  
Lowering his face inches from Patrick, Hannibal added with a low menacing voice: " And believe me, we are crazy enough to do it".  
A little drop of sweat pearled from Patrick's head when B.A switched on the power tool again.  
"Time to shine!" B.A growled at Patrick who tried to back away from the machine as much as he could.  
"Okay, okay! turn it off TURN IT OFF! " Patrick screamed.  
"Are you gonna talk?" Hannibal asked over the sound of the screaming machine.  
"YES!" Patrick screamed in full panic now. Sean who had been watching the scene couldn't prevent a smile of relief.  
"Aww bummer", Murdock glowered. Sulking a little, he put his hands deep in his pants pockets. "I was really lookin' forward to a new bowlin' ball…"  
Hannibal looked satisfied. He put a hand on B.A's shoulder who turned off the engine of the polisher again and stepped away.  
"Then tell me, who are you working fo.." But Hannibal didn't have time to finish his sentence. All of the sudden Dave came running into the scene. Everybody was too baffled to respond. With a cry of anger he pushed the colonel and B.A out of his way and grabbed Patrick's collar with one fist, hitting the man's face with the other. He was enraged and yelled "Spill it you bastard! Tell them who you're working for!" Patrick, spitting blood now, looked at the man in pure fear when Dave continued pounding on the man. He hit the tattooed man around the head with each and every word he yelled. The man whimpering with each blow.  
"WHO"  
"ARE"  
"YOU"  
"WORKING"  
"FOR!"  
With his last cry, he hit Patrick hard on his already injured temple, which apparently was the last drop. The bald man shuddered and slumped into a heap on the floor of the van.  
Hannibal grabbed Dave's shoulders and teared him away from the unresponsive man. Dave struggled, not wanting to let go of Patrick, but B.A quickly took over and wrestled a protesting Dave in an underhook. Holding him tight by the scruff of his neck, the younger man finally calmed down. Hannibal and Face checked on the unconscious man while Sean looked helpless at the scene with his hands in his hair. Joe and Patty came out of the house, no longer having the patience to wait and see what was going on.  
Murdock, who had followed the quick change of events with astonishment, stared at Dave with wild eyes. Grabbing him by his dressing gown he yelled:  
"What was that all about huh? You were supposed to stay with Joe and Patty!" Dave gave him a dangerous stare, but said nothing. Murdock raised his eyebrows.  
"Hey, did you just drop….", the pilot murmured in surprise, his voice suddenly a pinch higher than usual. He narrowed his eyes, but Dave quickly averted his stare to look apologetically at the approaching Joe and Patty.  
"Hmmm..nope…no... False alarm, it's back up again.." Murdock said hesitantly, slowly stepping away from Dave as if the man was something poisonous.  
Turning to Hannibal he added with a grim voice " The force-field is strong in this one, colonel".  
"Not now Murdock…", Hannibal sounded somewhat aggravated while still trying to revive Patrick without any result.  
"What's going on here!" Joe demanded, slightly out of breath from his fast walk toward the scene.  
Hannibal gave Face orders to try and get the unresponsive man back on his feet. Turning to Joe, Hannibal straightened his back and answered: "Well, we were about to get that answer from Patrick here, until Dave beat the crap out of him." Nodding his head at Patty, he quickly added "Pardon my French, Patty".  
Joe turned to Dave who quickly put a look of desperation on his face.  
"What does he mean, Dave? You hit the man?" Joe sounded like he couldn't believe his ears. Dave licked his lips and looked from Patty to Joe.  
"I… I just came in to see what was happening" he stuttered. "And Patrick just wouldn't talk!" He answered, sounding desperate.  
Looking angrily at the unconscious man he added. "It made me furious.. And.. I lost it... All the things he did to you… and to Mike! I trusted him. I even recommended him to you!" B.A loosened his grip on Dave.  
Pulling his arms free, Dave covered his eyes with a shaking blood stained hand. With a short sob, he added: "It's all my fault. If I didn't tell you to hire him, none of this would've happened. I… I got SO ANGRY when he didn't want to tell us who he's working for".  
Joe hesitantly put a hand on Dave's shoulder.  
Hannibal scrutinized the younger man in front of him. Either Dave was telling the truth and the events got the better of his emotions. Or he was a VERY good liar.  
Noting Murdock's dark glare he started to suspect the latter.  
Face gave up. "Looks like he's not going to wake-up soon, Hannibal. I think we'd better go inside and lay him down somewhere."  
Hannibal nodded. Things weren't going exactly according to plan...

A couple of minutes later, Patrick lay on the couch in the living room. His hands, and now also his feet, were bound with rope in case he would wake up and try to run for it.  
"Well, that was a bit useless", Hannibal sighed at Face. "We still need answers".  
Hannibal rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. The team sat down on some vacant chairs. The tired colonel looked at Joe and Patty who both didn't look any better. Joe had a look of disappointment on his face. It looked like the events had given his trust in people a serious blow.  
Sean looked down pensively at the man on the couch. "I just can't believe what happened today", he mumbled, turning around to face his boss and also friend. "Trust me Joe, I was not going to leave you without answers. I wrote it all down. But… It's just…I really need to leave"  
"But why?" Joe asked, desperation clearly in his voice.  
"I keep wondering about that too.." Hannibal said.  
"Why is it that you want to leave this place so badly. Who are you running from? It wasn't just Patrick, was it? Or are you running from something bigger? Perhaps the cops?"  
Sean stirred at the mention of the police. Meeting with Hannibal's eyes there was suddenly a hint of understanding.  
"You're wanted by the government?"  
Sean took a long breath. "Yes something like that. I've been living on a fake identity for years now. I've always been careful to avoid people most of the time. It has something to do with my past. But I don't feel like going in detail right now"  
Seeing the look on Joe's face, Sean quickly added: "Joe, I am not a criminal. And I am not a bad man. It's just a misunderstanding between me and the law and they tried to nail me for it."  
Raking his hands through his dirty hair, he continued with a tired expression: "I just didn't feel like committing to a lifetime in prison."  
"Don't we all" Hannibal said, slapping Sean on the back.  
The colonel glanced around. It was around 4 'O clock in the morning now and everybody looked dead tired.  
The usually so energetic Murdock was now sitting slumped in a chair with his eyes half open. Face looked like he was about to fall asleep on the spot, looking like a mess with his ruffled clothes and split lip. B.A however didn't show much weariness, but Hannibal knew the man needed his sleep too.  
A glance at the elderly couple told him that they had more than enough of emotions for a night. It must've been an emotional roller-coaster for them. Patty looked like she could drop to the floor any minute now. Even the younger Dave looked pale and tired.

"I think we should call it a night" Hannibal said, making everyone look at him. Then he addressed "Sean, I'd like to ask you to stay for a couple more days. We are not going to the police just yet... and I think you owe Joe and Patty a proper explanation before you leave."  
Sean nodded pensively. "Okay, I'll stay…for now..  
But what about him?" he pointed at Patrick.  
"We'll keep an eye on him, don't worry. You go home now and take a rest. Everybody should be going to bed and get a good night sleep. It's been a hell of a day".  
Everybody nodded, happy to retreat to their bedrooms and close their eyes for a bit. Dave, Joe and Patty were the first to leave the living room.  
The A-team members and Sean talked a few more minutes before Sean went home too.  
Hannibal decided to stay with Patrick and told his men to catch up with some 'zzzz-s'. He would sleep on the second couch in the living room, close to Patrick. If Patrick would wake up, he would know immediately.

A couple of minutes later, Sean walked to his house.  
In the distance he could already see first signs of the sun coming up.  
He felt exhausted and was relieved that he was almost home. He would try and sleep a bit, but he knew he had a lot of thinking to do. He was dreading the conversation with Joe, whose expression was heartbreaking. Through the years he had found a good friend in Joe, but he'd never dared to tell him who he really was.  
Tomorrow, or technically today, he would tell them. He would explain why he had to move on.  
Finally arriving at the front door of his little house, Sean searched for his keys.  
A sound behind him made him jump. Quickly he looked around to see what caused it.  
"Hiya Sean." A mocking voice whispered in his ear before a hard blow hit him in his ribs. Gasping for breath and staggering forward, Sean landed on hands and knees in the dirt of his front porch. He looked up at his attacker, his eyes widened as he recognized the man.  
"Time to say byebye now", the man said before hitting Sean hard on the head with a final blow of his baseball bat.  
Sean slumped lifeless on the ground, surrounded by pitch black darkness.


	13. Chapter 13 - coffee, geese and memories

* * * * NOTE * * *  
Again, thanks SO much for your comments and remarks, and thanks for following! *waves at new followers*  
I guess this chapter is a bit different from the previous ones. Please enjoy :)

 **Chapter 13 - coffee, geese and memories**

Hannibal lay down on the couch. He propped up his pillow and crawled under the blanket that he had borrowed from his bedroom. The older man was tired, but he couldn't sleep just yet. So... apparently, they had already found the culprit, thanks to Sean. In a flash it had sped up the case for the team.  
Hannibal glanced at the still unconscious man on the other couch. The bald man looked pale and weak after the blows he had received that night. The tattoos on his neck and arms stood out more than usual. So this was the man who sabotaged his clients' company, and who willingly had tried to get rid of Mike, himself, and Sean.  
Did he work alone?  
If he worked alone, what could be his motivation? Hannibal's gut told him that Patrick was just a handyman who did the dirty work for someone else.  
Hannibal rubbed his weary eyes. If this slimeball was working for someone else, their job was to find out who it was and get them off the clients' back.  
Joe also mentioned the former employee, Chris, who had gotten in a similarly strange accident. And while Chris was out of the running to recover from his injuries, all of the sudden there was this job opening, conveniently for Patrick to fulfill. Too much coincidence.  
But if Patrick really was the only saboteur in this event, then the case would be solved rather quickly, and the team would be on their way home.  
A was it that simple? Hannibal had this nagging feeling there was something more going on.  
His thoughts went back to Dave's behavior that night. The young man who got Patrick his job was also the man who had been living with the family for years now. He seemed to have formed a close bond with Joe and Patty, and they treated him as a son. Was he really feeling so much remorse for telling them to hire Patrick? Was that why he lost his cool tonight and walked in on the scene, thinking Patrick was not talking? Or did he conveniently prevent Patrick from talking? Well, if that was his plan, it had worked out well. Patrick was still out of cold.  
Hannibal winced slightly while moving in a more comfortable position on the couch. He was still sore from his ordeal with the table that afternoon. Resting his good arm under his head, his thoughts went back to his crazy captain. The good-humored man usually got along with almost everyone he met, either real or imaginary. But Murdock really seemed to have something against Dave. Since Murdock had been talking gibberish afterward (reciting Star Wars quotes), Hannibal had just waved it away as one of Murdock's crazy antics. But now, as he lay there on the couch staring at the ceiling, he wondered if Murdock had been trying to tell them something else. What did he mean with that forcefield? Hannibal decided that he needed to have a private conversation with Murdock and his other two men. But he really needed some rest first. Before going to bed he already asked B.A to check on Dave, to see if the man really was in his bedroom. B.A had peeked around the corner of the door and reported that the man seemed vast asleep in his bed. That information brought him at ease.  
Hannibal's eyelids became heavy. The last thing he thought before dozing off into a slumber was that, from now on, they would need to keep an eye on the younger man, just in case...

* * *

He was running, running deeper and deeper into a semi-dark jungle with ominous shadows all around him. He heard sounds of wild animals and foreign birds surrounding him. In the distance, he could see his chopper glinting. It was half hidden behind the dense trees and big patches of elephant grass. But why was it there? And what was he doing in this jungle? If only he could reach it in time. He needed to be in the air to help his unit, his comrades. But no matter how hard he ran, the chopper never seemed to come any closer. The eery sounds of wild animals and birds around him suddenly started to change into screams. With a shudder, he recognized them as human screams of pain and torture. He thought he recognized some of the voices.  
"Guys?" Murdock yelled in panic. "Where are you!?"  
The pilot tried to run faster, but looking down, he saw that his legs were entangled in the weeds on the ground. Hidden in the shadows behind him, he felt the looming presence of pitch black figures. Soon they started to surround him, but still his legs wouldn't move. Another high-pitched scream of agony sounded, and in the jungle in front of him, another clearing became visible. Murdock felt the hairs on his neck rising. He didn't really want to look, but somehow he couldn't avert his gaze. Between the weeds and elephant grass, he could clearly distinguish dark human forms. Slowly he started to recognize them as bodies of soldiers. Men he knew. Their faces were ripped open, their eye sockets were empty. Some of them were moaning, crawling through the grass, crying for help and looking for a leg or arm that had been torn off.  
Then he saw the guys. HIS guys. Hannibal lay on the ground, spread-eagled like he had seen him only a few hours before. But this time it was different. There was a big gaping hole in his chest. He could see the man's open rib cage and blank expression in his eyes. Gagging, Murdock looked away, only to find B.A, laying on his belly, missing both his legs, blood was heavily streaming from the stumps. Murdock wanted to help him, but suddenly not only his legs were stuck. His upper body was entangled in weeds too. A low moaning sound near his feet distracted him. Looking down he gazed right into the bloodied features of Face. But half of his face was missing. He could see part of his jaw was gone, and his eyes looked milky white in the dim light. Murdock wanted to scream, but the weeds entangled him further and further, steadily covering his mouth. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't do anything. Slowly he felt himself spinning down, as the earth beneath his feet crumpled away. His body fell down backward into a dark deep pit. This time he managed to scream, and he screamed loudly.

BENG!

Murdock blinked a couple of times. Feeling dizzy and disorientated, he tried to get his breathing under control. His surroundings were still dark and gloomy, but something was different. He had landed on something solid and cold. Was it stone? Struggling to push himself up on one elbow he noted that he could still not move his legs, though the weeds seemed to have vanished.  
Involuntarily Murdock looked back over his shoulders, but the dark figures that had been chasing him only seconds ago seemed to have disappeared too. And so had the horrific bodies of his friends and comrades. Murdock closed his eyes and gave himself some time to focus on his breathing before looking up again.  
With another survey, he noticed that he was laying on the stone floor wrapped in his blankets like a cocoon. Next to him stood a bed in a room he didn't recognize. Murdock shuddered and put a shaking hand on his wet cheek. He t-shirt and shorts were soaking wet from sweating.  
But where was he? Part of his mind was still captured in a dreaming state. But then he saw the illuminated dial of his Woody Woodpecker alarm clock. It was a little clock in the shape of the Woody Woodpecker character he so much loved. The dial was part of the character's white and blue belly. Murdock took it with him whenever they were on a mission. Recognizing it, Murdock finally stepped back into reality. Trying to shake off the chills, his mind managed to calm down. It was only 5 in the morning now. He'd hardly slept at all.

"You awake?" A low but calm voice sounded close by.  
"T..that you B.A?" Murdock spun around while peering around the dim lit room. He could see a dark figure sitting up in a bed opposite his.  
"You was havin' one of you' night terrors 'gain" B.A simply said.  
"Wasn't sure if I should wake you up until you did th' job for me by falling out of bed.."  
"Oh…" Murdock said sheepishly. "Yeah, I do that sometimes." He tried to grin, but it wasn't convincing B.A.  
"You okay?" he asked with a concerned frown on his face.  
"Yeah..", Murdock lied while freeing himself from his blanket. His soaked shirt was sticking to his back.  
"Hope I didn't wake you up, big guy." he added.  
"Nah, It's fine..", B.A yawned. "Gonna need another couple though".  
"You do that. I think I'm gonna freshen up" Murdock mumbled, standing up and searching for his duffel bag that contained an extra set of clean clothes and some toiletry.

A minute later Murdock found himself in the bathroom, standing in front of the sink with his arms hanging limply from his shoulders. He checked his ghostly reflection. He definitely could do with some more Zzz's, like B.A. But not now. Not now his mind was still dwelling on the nightmare. The terror and fright were still edged sharply in his memory. He didn't want to go there again, he didn't want to remember the horrors from 'Nam. He just needed to push them back into the darker corners of his mind. It was a simple matter of locking the door and throwing away the key…...again.

Searching through his duffel bag, he found some bottles containing his meds. Taking a pill from each, he quickly swallowed them away with water. Then he slipped out of his sweaty clothes and jumped into an ice cold shower. A whimper escaped from his lips when the shock of the icy water hit him.  
"T-that will t-t-t-teach them bad dreams", he shivered, while at the same time clumsily inhaling water which caused him to gag, cough, and sputter as a result. But it did the trick. He could think more clearly again. Or at least as much as his mind allowed him to do anyway.  
"Don't come too close, B-Billy. It's a little bit c-cold", he warned his invisible dog who wagged his tail at him.

Ten minutes later Murdock walked (as silently as possible) through the house in a clean set of clothes, feeling all refreshed. He was relieved that he'd been able to shake off the worst of his nightmare, though he still felt tired. Heading for the kitchen with the promise of making himself a big cup of strong coffee, he suddenly stopped in track. The kitchen lights were already switched on. Apparently, the kitchen was occupied, even though Murdock had assumed everybody would still be asleep at this hour. Carefully peeking around the corner of the door he was relieved to find Patty, who was busy preparing a pot of coffee for herself.

"Got some cuppa Joe to spare for lil' old me, miss P?" He asked, trying to make his voice sound cheerful.  
Patty startled and quickly turned around to see the visitor. Visibly relieved when she recognized Murdock, she nodded.  
"Please sit down son, I was just making myself a big pot."  
Looking at the dark bags under the pilot' eyes, she added: "Couldn't sleep?"  
"Nah, not really… Bed bugs were bitin' 'gain." Murdock drawled while setting himself down at the kitchen table. Looking at the questioning face of the elderly lady he quickly added: "What about you?"  
"I couldn't sleep either. Too much on my mind.." Patty sighed, adding an extra big scoop of coffee to the filter.  
"Ahhh..you know what? Sleeping is overrated", Murdock jokingly replied. Stretching his arms above his head and folding his hands behind his head, he added "Besides, now we got more hours in our day. Let's do something useful with them".  
Patty nodded. "Exactly. I was going to bake some bread for breakfast, just to be busy and to keep my mind off things...".  
For a second she looked longingly at the kitchen door as if hoping her son Mike would walk in with a grin on his face, telling her all was right again.  
"Want some help?" The lanky man volunteered, following her gaze.  
"You can bake bread? Well, I could always use some help" Patty smiled.  
"Alrighty then! Just tell me what to do", Murdock said, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. "And yes, besides wielding firearms, talkin' jibber jabber (according to B.A) and steering all things aerial, I can also bake bread" he added with a grin

Minutes later, a cheerful laughter and chatter came from the kitchen while the two people were kneading the bread dough, both thankful for the distraction. When the dough was set to rise, Patty poured two fresh mugs of steaming hot coffee (their third already), while Murdock washed the flower from his arms and face at the sink.  
Sitting down at the kitchen table again, Patty put the mug right in front of him. As he reached for it eagerly, her eyes fell on his now clean and bare arms. Noting the many thin white lines and ugly gashes on his lower arms for the first time, she let escape a little gasp.  
Murdock looked up, surprised at the sound, and then followed her gaze back to his arms that were covered with the old scars. Feeling suddenly very self-aware, he let go of the mug and quickly hid his arms under the table.  
Frowning slightly he started rolling down his sleeves.  
"I.. I'm so sorry.." Patty stammered. "I didn't want to stare".  
"It's okay" Murdock muttered buttoning his cuffs and reaching for his coffee again. He carefully blew on the dark liquid to cool it down. "Some souvenirs from 'Nam…". He tried to say with a nonchalance he didn't really feel. He quickly took a few sips of his coffee, trying hard to compose his face.  
"Our oldest son fought in 'Nam too, you know".. Patty said with a soft and deeply saddened voice. She paused before she added, "He got imprisoned in a POW camp… He never made it back home…"  
Murdock went silent. His throat seemed to tighten as he struggled to think of something appropriate to say.  
He himself, together with Face, B.A and Hannibal had been POW prisoners too. But at least they had survived the horrific ordeals. Without any warning, bad memories from that time started to float to the surface of his mind once more.  
"I'm… I'm really sorry" he managed to croak while trying to suppress the memories as well as his tired mind could. His chest was feeling tight as his breaths became shorter and more rapid.  
He felt panic growing in the back of his mind, and images started flashing in front of his eyes that he didn't want to see. He was starting to visualize the jungle again.. and the camp and its Prisoners and vicious interrogators. Squeezing his eyes tight, he tried to concentrate on his breathing. No panic attack, NO flashbacks. NOT NOW!  
"Wiggle your toes, Murdock. Wiggle your toes." He told himself firmly, staring hard at his mug of coffee (which he was now squeezing hard between his hands). It helped to ground him, to stay with both feet in reality. These were tricks he'd learned over the years at the VA hospital to prevent his flashbacks from taking over. But they didn't always work. Nevertheless, he couldn't fall apart in front of their client. Not in front of Patty. Murdock took a deep breath.

Patty, who had been fighting some sad memories of her own had turned her back on Murdock, pretending to check on the rising dough in the window sill. But she was silently suppressing tears that she didn't want to show the pilot, and while doing so, she didn't notice Murdock's struggles that were caused by her words.  
Trying to divert their conversation to a different topic, and trying hard to keep the emotion from her voice, she airily said:  
"I am going to bake a cake for you guys. I need some fresh eggs. Can you fetch them for me?"  
Murdock thankfully grabbed the opportunity for a distraction as if grabbing for a lifeline.  
"Yes, eggs...you got it." He said absently.  
Standing up from the table, he grabbed his jacket and hat and walked straight through the outside kitchen door that led into the garden.

Patty looked up and was confused to see Murdock leave the kitchen without another word. Her eyes followed him into the garden in surprise. Then she shrugged, walked to the fridge and grabbed a box of eggs herself.  
"Maybe he misunderstood me?", she pondered while starting on the cake batter, trying to focus on measuring the ingredients. Her mind was aching for a distraction that could keep her busy. Even if she would have to bake whole day long.

Murdock walked through the garden with his hands stuck deeply into his pants pocket. His breathing had calmed down and the fresh air, combined with the smell of dewy grass, helped him clear his head. The visions disappeared and he felt relief washing over him.  
This had been quite a difficult start of the day for the crazy man. He blamed it on the lack of sleep that even the coffee hadn't been able to remove entirely. Though, come to think of it, he was feeling kinda wired at the same time. It was like the muscles in his long arms and legs vibrated and hummed softly like the engine of a car.  
Murdock was glad to be outside, and he was glad to have a mission. He needed to find eggs. Fresh eggs.  
The man focused on his task. They were staying at a farm, so surely their clients would own chicken? Or that's what Murdock assumed. But then he remembered that he hadn't seen any chicken (nor other farm animals for that matter) during his surveillance of the grounds the previous night. However, he had seen some nesting geese. Surely he would be able to grab himself an egg or two?

It wouldn't be any harder then collecting chicken eggs if he did it right, would it? With a feverish glint in his eyes (maybe it was the caffeine after all?) he put his baseball cap straighter on his head and headed for the pond. The geese already started to honk alarmingly at the intruder of their domains.

* * *

Face had been sleeping restlessly that night. Even though he'd had the comforts of a private room (because Hannibal was staying with Patrick in the living room) he had woken up from almost every sound he thought he heard. And now, even though it was 6:30 in the morning (which meant he'd only had about 2,5 hours of sleep), he was staring at the window curtains, still tired, but fully awake.

"So much for my beauty sleep", he muttered grumpily under his breath while getting up. He decided that it would be a great moment to take advantage of the currently unoccupied bathroom and freshen up before everybody would be waiting in line for their turn.  
Perfection takes time, and he needed it.  
He hoped that Hannibal would have mercy on them today since he didn't feel too sharp right now.  
Face grabbed his toiletries and made his way to the bathroom. After a hot shower, he dried himself with a towel, which he draped around his hips afterward. Reaching for his shaving cream he wondered if Hannibal had thought up a new plan. Face had already started dreading it before he even knew what it was.  
While dabbing the shaving cream on his face, a distant tumult distracted him. He thought he could hear various angry and screaming sounds coming from the garden. Bewildered, and with a chin full of foam that made him look like Santa Claus, Face peered out of the tiny window of the bathroom which gave him a view of the front yard.

A familiar skinny man in a brown jacket and blue baseball cap was running his socks off while being chased by a small flock of angry and honking geese. Covered in, what looked like a cloud of feathers, it appeared that the man was cradling something in his arms while running. Some of the angry birds fluttered manically above his head, easily keeping pace while clapping their wings. They pecked hard at the back of his neck and head. Others were flapping wildy around his shins.  
It was a peculiar sight. The Faceman raised an eyebrow when the running man disappeared behind a shed with the geese closely on his heels.  
Face stood perplexed for a moment, considering the scene he just witnessed. Then, shrugging in wonder, he reached for his razor blade.

Just when he clicked a fresh blade onto the handle, Face jerked his head toward the window again as an earsplitting howl, closely followed by a "YiYiYiYiYiYiYi" could be heard from outside. Peeking through the window frame, Face amused himself watching the flock of geese running and flying into the opposite direction while being chased by the same lanky man who was now frantically waving a broom above his head.  
"Oh Murdock...", Face grinned while returning to his mirror to shave and finish up.


	14. Chapter 14 - cuts and bruises

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hey again. A shorter chapter this time, but more to come soon. I loved the new feedback on my previous updates. Thanks so much. I guess we finally get to know one of the characters a little better after this read.

Chapter 14 - Cuts and Bruises

B.A restlessly turned around in his bed, trying hard to make himself comfortable in order to catch a few more hours of sleep. But sleep wouldn't come. He couldn't help but staring at the bedroom door that his crazy roommate had just closed behind him. The poor fool...  
Murdock's night terror had startled the big man out of his sleep and B.A could almost still hear the other man's terrified screams that woke him up. Of course, it hadn't been the first time this happened during a mission. They were quite used to it and B.A didn't blame the man. How could he? Heck, he still had these bad nights himself sometimes. They all did. But Murdock seemed to have a subscription to them, taking away bits of his sanity each and every time he had one.  
B.A sighed as he tried to recall this particular night terror. It hadn't been as bad this time, but still bad enough for the pilot to have a hard time during the day. B.A hated the horrified look in the pilot's eyes. Seeing him quailing on the floor, searching the room for ghosts of the past and fighting hard to get back into reality. It made him feel so damn useless, and that was something he hated even more.  
There wasn't much he could do to prevent the man from having those dreams or flashbacks anyway. They could be triggered so easily.  
B.A had respect for the crazy man and his ability to somehow bounce back from the horrific dreams and show his good-humored nature again like nothing was bothering him at all.  
Not that he was going to let the fool know that. He needed to be put back in place at all times to keep both feet firmly on the ground. Someone had to do it, and surely Hannibal and Face weren't going to help since they often even encouraged the crazy antics.  
Nope, despite B.A's efforts, the crazy fool was never going to shut up... and maybe it was okay.  
After all, the crazy man had a free spirit...  
B.A's stifled a yawn and his thoughts drifted off to his commander.  
At least the dark man had been able to do some useful stuff for the colonel. When the guys were about to head off to bed, Hannibal had taken him aside.  
He told B.A that the enemy seemed to be one step ahead of their situation from the start. And he decided he'd had enough of it. It was time to catch up with the slimeballs and let them eat dirt for a change. Hannibal ordered B.A to sneak back to the van to fetch one of his handmade miniature tracking devices. B.A was very proud of his latest handiwork which also had a tiny microphone hidden in it. It could both track and transmit sounds to the van, so they could overhear conversations when needed. B.A loved to tinker and invent new things. The bulky sergeant had prepared one of these gadgeds before he even knew of this mission. This would be a great moment to test the device thoroughly.  
Stealthily, they had placed the small tracker behind the rim of Patrick's jacket collar when the man was still out of cold. The team would be able to track that bag of dirt wherever he would go. Or at least, if the man kept his jacket on. Here's hoping!  
Besides checking on Dave before he went to bed himself (to see if the younger man was actually in his bedroom), it was the least he could do.  
B.A's eyelids grew heavier and heavier until his eyes finally closed. The big man turned around on his other side and finally drifted off into another hour of sleep before he would be woken up abruptly again.

* * *

Patty was just putting the cake into the oven when Dave walked into the kitchen. "Morning Patty", he said yawning and stretching. He had the look of someone who hadn't slept at all.  
"Morning dear", Patty said, looking him up and down.  
Noticing his grogginess and pale complexion, she remarked: "You look like something the cat dragged in. Didn't you get any sleep either?".  
"Ha-ha", Dave said without any humor in his tone while sitting down at the table. Rubbing his eyes and stifling another yawn he added: "Just had a short night, that's all".  
Patty nodded and poured him a mug of coffee.

Suddenly the garden door swung open and a wild-eyed and madly laughing Murdock stumbled in. He immediately turned around and closed the door behind him with a bang while angry honking noises could be heard from behind him. Leaning against the door with his back for a few seconds he tried to catch his breath and (as casually as possible) started dusting off some feathers from his jacket (while mumbling something about molting geese). Murdock fumbled in his jacket pocket and carefully produced a big white egg. With three leaps, the lanky pilot bounced toward the kitchen table and proudly put down his catch of the day onto the wooden surface.  
"Special delivery, miss P", he said with a confident cheer in his voice. "With reluctant compliments of the geese", he added, wincing momentarily while rubbing a painful cheekbone.  
Patty looked at him flabbergasted.  
"Silly boy! I meant fresh eggs from the fridge, not from the geese!", she said with a hint of laughter in her voice.  
"And look at you, you are bleeding" she gasped, looking at his face and hands.  
"I am?" Murdock asked with a high surprised voice, looking down at his hands. Noticing the red bite marks (already starting to turn into small bruises) and some bleeding cuts around his fingers, he added dryly: "Oh…"  
"Looks like I need to fetch the first aid kit _again_ " Dave muttered while getting up. "All that bleeding is starting to become a tradition with you guys, or what?" he added with a grin that didn't reach his eyes.  
Murdock jerked his head up in surprise. Noticing the younger man for the first time he narrowed his eyes. "Don't get used to it, boy.." he snarled. Dave glared back at the pilot. Hesitating for a second he stood up and walked out of the kitchen to get the first aid kit from the living room. Patty, oblivious to the tension between the two men, started fussing over Murdock, cleaning the blood from his hands and face with a damp towel. He had a few angry red marks on one cheek bone too, but it wasn't too bad. His hands, however, needed a little more attention.  
"Oh, you silly boy", Patty muttered again, pushing strands of her white hair out of her eyes while attending to Murdock's hands.  
"I'm okay, miss P. Really! I'm fine." Murdock protested, trying to escape her mothering. "Look, it already stopped bleeding too" he added with a slight blush of embarrassment on his cheeks.  
"You know it's a pity, though," Patty said, ignoring Murdock's pleas and glancing at the big white egg on the table. "That egg was probably going to hatch any day soon now.  
These geese have been breeding for 4 weeks. And I bet they won't accept it if you'd try to return it"  
Murdock's eyes widened when realizing what the elderly lady meant.  
"Oh no… You mean I robbed it off its mommy?" He exclaimed.  
Murdock quickly slipped away from Patty's nursing and gently picked up the egg that still felt warm in his hands. "I'll need to keep you warm and comfy", he mumbled with an expression that was a mixture of worry and remorse on his face. He looked around wildly and found a small yellow hand towel. "Can I use this?" Murdock asked, pointing at it.

"Of course, but why.." Patty said, raising an eyebrow while watching Murdock wrapping the egg carefully in the towel. Next he tried to put the package in his jacket pocket, but it wouldn't fit anymore.  
"Here" Patty said, producing a small round basket from one of the cupboards and giving it to Murdock. "It will protect the egg".  
Thankful, Murdock accepted the little basket and placed the wrapped egg in it. A perfect fit. Then he zipped open his jacket and put the egg inside, resting it against his abdomen. Zipping his jacket close again, he said while carefully patting the bump: "That will keep him warm".  
Overall, it looked a bit weird.  
"You'll still need to be careful though", Patty laughed while wondering in amazement about the wacky but gentle character of the man standing in front of her, who was now speaking kind words to the bump in his jacket.

* * *

Dave was on his way to the living room where they stored the first aid kid. He felt lucky having such a great excuse to explain his presence there. Carefully opening the door, he glanced around the corner to get a good impression of the scene before entering. He observed two occupied couches positioned opposite each other and divided by a salon table. On one of them, he could see the contours of Patrick. The bound man lay silently on the couch, asleep or perhaps still unconscious. Dave checked the other couch and saw Hannibal in a resting pose with his eyes closed. He looked like he was caught up in a deep sleep with his head resting on his gently rising and falling chest.

Dave crept inside the dim lit room on tiptoe (trying not to wake the colonel), while passing the couch that occupied Patrick. Suddenly the tattooed man opened his eyes and stared at Dave with a horrified look. The man's face was swollen from the beating he'd received from Dave the other night. One of his eyes was closed shut due to the black and blue bruises. Dave put a warning finger to his mouth for the man to keep silent before he continued his way to the cabinet. Dave opened the door and reached for the first aid kit. Quickly checking its contents, he smiled when he found what he was looking for. As silently as he could he grabbed a small red object from the box and closed it again. Then he closed the cabinet and silently walked back to the couch with the bound man. When passing the couch, he paused and looked down at Patrick's swollen face who stared back at him with a cautious expression. Dave, who was standing with his back to the colonel, gave the bald man a cold stare. With a quick move of his hand, he dropped a small swiss army knife on Patrick's lap, who quickly covered it with his bound hands. He gave Dave an understanding look.

"What'yer doin' son?" A clear voice from the other couch spoke calmly.  
Dave almost dropped the first aid kid and quickly turned around to see Hannibal who was scrutinizing the younger man with an arm under his head from the other couch. The look on his face was that of mild suspicion and interest. Concealed from Hannibal's view, Patrick had quickly closed his eyes again.

"Hell! You scared the hell out of me, man" Dave panted, grabbing theatrically for his chest.  
"What? Having a bad conscience, are you?" Hannibal grimaced, observing the younger man's every move.  
When not receiving a direct answer, the colonel added: "What's with the first aid kid? Bit your tongue and now in need of a band-aid?"  
Dave, relieved for the change of subject, quickly answered: "It's for Murdock. He wrestled with the geese this morning and got hurt".  
"He what?.." Hannibal immediately stood up to check on his pilot. With Murdock, you could always expect the unexpected, which wasn't necessarily a good thing...  
Just when Hannibal reached the corridor, a lot of things started to happen all at once.  
A loud hysterical laughing started. It repeated over and over again and was soon followed by the enraged sound of B.A, bellowing: "MURDOCK, YOU FOOL!"


	15. Chapter 15 - Escapes and the jazz

* * * NOTE * * *  
Ha, another chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it. As always, I enjoyed your comments and kind words. This chapter has less action, but quite some revelations.  
I am planning some serious action for the next one. Happy holidays!

Chapter 15 - Alarm bells, escapes, and the jazz

At hearing the hysterical sounds of laughter and B.A's unmistakable roars, Murdock muttered an: "Oh shit", and quickly disappeared under the kitchen table, saying to no one in particular: "I'm not here!".  
And not a moment too soon.  
The kitchen door banged open with an enraged B.A standing in the door opening holding the cause of the racket in his hands. The hysterical high-pitched sounds continued without a pause. It took the big man all of his willpower not to break the damn thing and smash it onto the floor.  
"Where is he!" B.A bellowed above the sounds of the still hysterical laughing object. Patty looked alarmed but was too startled to say a word.  
"I'm gonna break this thing into pieces if it won't turn off", B.A yelled while shaking the Woody Woodpecker clock viciously.  
"No don't!", Murdock cried while leaving his hiding spot from under the table and scrambling to his feet. He quickly grabbed the clock out of B.A's hands and silenced it with a switch of the characters' tail. "It's easy, see?" Murdock explained.  
"You fool!" B.A bellowed again. "Wanna gimme a heart attack?"  
He tried to grab Murdock's collar, but the lanky man was quicker and slipped behind Patty with his clock protectively in his hands. But B.A wasn't done yet. With an angry growl, he leaped upon the skinny man and started to chase the pilot around the table. Murdock ran as fast as he could, keeping his clock above his head while trying to keep his egg save as well.  
"But B.A! Be reasonable!" He panted: "If I hadn't forgotten to turn off the alarm, you wouldn't have had your morning exercise."  
"Boys...?" Patty said, without any of the two men hearing her.  
"Gonna break your legs, fool!" B.A barked, which made the pilot quickly change his speed to fifth gear.  
"BOYS!" It was Patty's time to bellow on top of her lungs this time.  
"NOW _SIT DOWN_ YOU TWO AND BE QUIET!" she yelled, stamping her feet.  
Abruptly both the pilot and the big guy stopped in track and sat down in a chair. They were sending each other baffled looks over the table before timidly glancing at the older lady who was eyeing them with flushed cheeks and an angry expression on her face.  
Suddenly it became clear that the little lady had learned some useful tricks whilst raising two boys herself in the past.  
B.A, reminded of his own momma, looked embarrassed for being told off.

In the meantime, the whole house had been alerted. Hannibal and Face rushed into the kitchen to see what was going on, quickly followed by Dave and a groggy Joe who was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  
"What the hell happened?"  
Everybody was quickly updated on the morning events, and Hannibal had to suppress a laughing fit at the view of his two soldiers, sitting obediently at the kitchen table with shocked looks on their faces.  
Seen the circumstances of their current situation, it wouldn't have been too professional toward his clients to burst out in laughter, so instead he reprimanded his men for behaving like children (though with a playful twinkle in his bright blue eyes).  
Murdock looked as if he wanted to protest, but hearing the low warning growl from the big guy, he decided against it.  
Hannibal glanced at the troubled frown on Joe's face. Last nights' events had surely left quite an impression on the elderly man...

It was time for breakfast and coffee and even cake right from the oven.  
Murdock's hands were finally tended to by Patty who disinfected the cuts and plastered his fingers with band-aids. Hannibal was rethinking a strategy of his plan that he still needed to share with the guys. Every now and then, he sneaked glances at Dave who was eating his breakfast in silence.  
Murdock was explaining a curious Face about the egg he was now taking care of.  
"I'm gonna call him Fred", Murdock said dreamily, while showing Face the big white egg. Face smiled and told Murdock that it was a great name for a goose, at which the man beamed. Carefully, the pilot wrapped the egg back in its bright yellow towel again, placed it in the basket and finally back in his jacket. B.A (who had finally calmed down thanks to Patty), groaned at the prospect of the fool trying to hatch an egg on his own. "That egg's not gettin' in ma van, ya hear me?" he warned the pilot. Murdock gave him a hurt look but said nothing.

When Patty was done with the first aid kit, she asked Dave to return it to the living room. The younger man gave her a charming smile, saying "No problem, Patty.", and walked out of the kitchen.  
But within a few seconds, he came back running and yelling: "He's gone! Patrick is gone!"  
"How could he? He was bound with both hands and feet!" Face said, getting up from his chair.  
Hannibal immediately took action and commanded the team to search the house. When Patrick wasn't found, they returned to the kitchen for further instructions.  
"We need to warn Sean and make sure he's safe." Hannibal said to his team. "Patrick can't be too far if he's on foot"  
Turning to his clients, Hannibal quickly briefed them.  
"Patty and Joe, I'd like you to stay inside, lock the doors and don't open for anyone today. Just in case. I don't think you're in immediate danger as of yet, but you can't be too careful."  
"I can take care of myself," Joe said boastfully with an air of bitter determination in his voice. "I'll get my rifle. If that bastard ever comes near our place I'll make sure he eats lead."  
"I'll keep you to that promise", Hannibal said.  
"Dave", The colonel turned to the younger man who looked up in surprise, "I'd like you to go to the warehouse immediately to warn everyone, and to see if Patrick will show up there. And if he does, stay away from him, but call us at our number in the van. We can't be too careful."  
Dave nodded and mumbled something in agreement before leaving the room. Hannibal's eyes followed the younger man until he'd left the house and he could hear a car starting before turning to his team.  
"Come on guys. We've got work to do!"

Quickly the three men followed their commander outside the farmhouse and into the van. Leaving a puzzled Patty and Joe behind.  
With skitting wheels, B.A drove off to Sean's house.  
"What a mess Hannibal.." Face sighed while making an exasperated move with his hands. "This is not going well.."  
"Hold your horses, lieutenant", Hannibal said, lighting his cigar and clenching it between his teeth.  
"Actually, it's going right according to plan", he added, giving B.A a wink. The bejeweled man sniggered.  
"Whaddaya mean?" Murdock asked, leaning forward and eyeing both his colonel and the big guy with suspicion. "You mean you _wanted_ Patrick to escape?"  
"Right you are captain", Hannibal nodded while scanning the road, in case they would spot the fleeing man.  
"Well, that's all just shiny, Hannibal. But aren't you putting Sean's life at risk while doing so?" Face said.  
"Maybe.., but I don't think so", Hannibal said shrugging.  
"I don't think he will go for Sean first, now he knows that we know who he's working for. I expect him to go to Mitchell's"

"And how do WE know where he's going?" Face added with a cynical tone in his voice.  
"Ah," Hannibal said while rubbing his hands enthusiastically. "Well, amongst the four of us, this is just one of my more genius plans. It's a thing of beauty if I may say so."  
B.A made a low warning sound at the colonel, who quickly added:  
"Of course it wouldn't have worked without the help from our overly brilliant sergeant who smoothed out some of the technical 'pitfalls' of the plan"  
He firmly patted B.A on his shoulder who beamed at the words.  
Seeing the blank expressions on the other men's faces he added:  
"We _know_ because last night we attached one of B.A's tracking transmitters, that also serves as a little listening device, to Patrick's clothes", Hannibal said, grinning around his cigar.  
"Ahhhh!", Both Face and Murdock's eyes widened at this piece of information, and a simultaneous grin spread on their faces.  
Hannibal's grin faded a little when he looked at Murdock.  
"I believe I owe you an apology regarding Dave, captain".  
Murdock's eyes narrowed at the name. "Aww shucks colonel, don't be silly," Murdock said awkwardly, "Why would you d..?"  
"Because I saw Dave helping Patrick escape this morning." Hannibal interrupted him. "Which confirmed my theory that Dave is in on this. And that's why I sent him away from Joe and Patty, right to the warehouse where he can do no harm for now. He still thinks we don't suspect him, so I expect him to follow up on my instructions for now."  
Murdock looked thoughtful when he said, "There is something very, very wrong with this kid. And I should know..I've seen crazy."  
"No kiddin', sucka...", B.A remarked dryly, which was rewarded by Murdock pulling a face at the driver.  
"We're here Hannibal", B.A grunted when a small house came into view.  
"So what do we do next, Hannibal?" Face asked while the van parked in front of Sean's house.  
"I will brief you guys the rest in a minute. But lets first check on Sean. I need to talk with him about that chair he mentioned yesterday".  
The guys stepped out of the van, armed with their guns and checking the perimeter for signs of Patrick, just in case he'd managed to hitch a ride from someone.  
Hannibal was just about to knock on the front door when he found it ajar.  
Quickly gesturing his men to stay quiet, he beckoned Face to follow him inside the house while B.A and Murdock checked the surroundings.  
Quietly and guarded, Hannibal entered the building first, closely followed on his heels by Face. Both men were vigilant when they checked every room in the small house. But they soon found out that there was nobody inside.  
"He said he would stay a few more days, didn't he?" Face asked Hannibal when they left the house.  
"He did. And his packed bags are still inside too, so I don't think he left yet." Hannibal said, frowning while his eyes searched the grounds once more.  
"Maybe he's just running some last minute errands?" Face suggested.  
"Let's hope so.", Hannibal said. He had a bad feeling about this.

When B.A and Murdock came back from checking the perimeter without anything to report either, Face' sharp eyes suddenly focused on something on the ground. Bending down, he gently moved his fingers over a couple of dark brown spatters in the dirt.  
"Uhoh..", he said under his breath.  
"Report lieutenant.", Hannibal frowned at him.  
Face hesitated before answering. "I believe this is blood, colonel."  
B.A bend down too. "It looks like there's been a struggle here." He said, pointing at the tracks in the dirt.  
"Hmm that changes the plan a bit.." Hannibal said, looking worried.

* * *

An hour back in time..  
Patrick flung open his eyes the moment he heard Hannibal leaving the room to see what was up with his captain.  
Dave was still standing there, next to his couch, while calmly staring down at him with an expression that gave Patrick the chills. Then he looked away and followed the white haired man out of the room.

There was a commotion in the house that Patrick didn't understand, but he knew there wasn't time to question it. Wasting no more time, he sat up, flicked open the swiss army knife and started working on the ropes of his bound feet as fast as he could. The moment his feet were released, he immediately stood up and fled from the living room. He was lucky. Everybody seemed to be gathered in the kitchen.  
Armed with the army knife, the bald man scurried toward the front door. Quickly and quietly he slipped out of the house. With his hands still bound in front of him, he ran to the foliage to take cover behind some bushes. When he was confident enough that nobody could see him, he started working on the hand ropes while hidden from view. It took him a while, but he managed to cut his hands free as well. Suddenly feeling a little bit dizzy and nauseous now the adrenaline was wearing off, he slumped down with his back against a tree.

Patrick carefully felt the bruises on his head. He figured he'd possibly had a mild concussion or something along those lines. Remembering Dave's wild but cold eyes while beating his face into a pulp made him shiver involuntarily, even though the tattooed man was anything but a coward. But something had changed inside the usually charming young man that unsettled him deeply, especially after last night's encounter.  
The kid was a force to be reckoned with as their secret was almost discovered. But there seemed to be more going on. During the last few weeks, Patrick had started to suspect Dave of having a second agenda. They were both being paid by Mitchell for spying at Joe's Antiques, (Patrick also having the questionable honor to sabotage things and cause 'accidents'). But Dave seemed to have been interested in other things then the extra money. Breaking the trust of his friends, Joe and Patty - who even treated him as a son - seemed to be a high price for what he was doing. _What_ was he up to?  
Patrick snarled viciously. Whatever it was, Dave had stepped on his pride and the younger man was surely going to pay for it!  
Patrick decided that the first thing he needed to do was calling his boss Mitchell to give him an update and ask for new instructions.  
Things had gone too much out of control.  
Patrick stood up, momentarily swaying on his legs, then recovered quickly and started walking toward the town while staying close to the trees. Whenever he heard a car he would jump right into the foliage to hide. It could be the A-team or even Dave. And he didn't want to get a lift from Dave if he could prevent it. It should take him about 30 minutes to get him to the closest pay phone.  
He would call Mitchell, give him an update, and ask him to send someone to pick him up...

* * *

Dave was driving his car, his eyes focused on the road, but his mind was racing. As far as he could determine the situation, he had been really close to being exposed last night. _Way_ too close to his likings.  
Dave wondered if Hannibal had witnessed him dropping the knife into Patrick's' lap. But since Hannibal hadn't pressed the issue afterward, Dave assumed (and hoped) that the older man didn't suspect him after all. Patrick bit his lip. He had been very thankful for the sudden commotion. The chaos that followed, in which Patrick had managed to escape, had been a bit of sheer luck. It had successfully distracted the colonel and the others.  
Dave gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter feeling rage running through his veins. It was all Patrick's fault. That bastard almost blew up all of their plans with his improvised attacks on the colonel and Sean.  
Dave had to go to Mitchell's and report to him immediately before Patrick could get there. Mitchell would hear Dave's version first, and that was all that he needed. Patrick was just a sucker who had played his parts. He was disposable...  
Dave smiled silently to himself. He would get rid of Patrick when he had the chance. Things could still turn out well, and the team didn't suspect him yet. They would think Patrick was the one and only culprit. How wrong they were.  
He needed a plan to get rid of the team too... like he'd already disposed of Sean...

* * *

"Okay guys, here's the deal." Hannibal said when the team all sat down in the van again. "We haven't had the chance to talk in private yet, due to the possibility of being overheard by Dave."  
He puffed on his cigar for a second before continuing.  
"I have a little surprise here that might give us the upper hand."  
The colonel reached inside his jacket and pulled a white envelope from his inside pocket.  
"Sean's letter!" Face exclaimed. "But we already know what's in it, according to Sean's story last night, right?".  
"True, but he didn't tell us everything", Hannibal said with a meaningful smirk on his face.  
"I had the chance to read it last night and there is much more to the story. The letter explains the reason _why_ Mitchell is after Joe's company".  
"Which is…?" Face asked, while the other men eagerly moved closer to make sure they didn't miss any bit of the conversation.  
"The antique chair that Joe won at the auction". Hannibal answered the conman with a cunning grin. The younger men looked at him puzzled.  
"What's so important about a stupid ol' chair, you go attackin' people for it?" B.A growled, clearly outraged.  
"That's because the chair itself is not important, even though as an antique still worth its value. But it's what Sean discovered _inside_ the chair that counts", Hannibal said.  
Rapping on the envelope in his hands, he continued: "Sean understood its value and has immediately hidden the chair and its contents, in case Patrick would come looking for it at his place."  
Hannibal's eyes started to glimmer again. "And he wrote down the instructions for Joe on where to find it. It's still on this ground, so we can quickly pick it up and use to our advantage."  
The colonel paused and gave his men a big Cheshire cat grin:  
"And then it's time to confront that slimeball called Mitchell," he added happily.  
"Guess who's on the jazz again?", B.A sighed.  
"You hear that Fred? We're goin' treasure hunting!" Murdock exclaimed enthusiastically to his egg.  
"Oh no.." Face moaned. "I hope he hasn't buried it ten feet under…."  
Hannibal merely chuckled as his new plan was about to get shape.


	16. Chapter 16 - Some (treasure) hunting

* * * * * *  
Hello again. Thanks, thanks, thanks again for the great chapter reviews and comments. It's encouraging as ever to keep writing this story. I am actually posting two chapters today, so stay tuned for the next one while I'm going through the grammar of things. The situation gets more and more intense. I am almost ready to write the finale of the story. I hope you've enjoyed it so far.

Chapter 16: Some (Treasure) Hunting

Mitchell, an older man with salt and pepper beard leaned forward with his elbows on his desk while folding his hands in front of his chest. He stared at Dave over the top of his dark rimmed glasses. Dave stood silently in front of the thin and graying old man who sat behind a massive wooden desk in a dim-lit office room. If Dave was feeling uncomfortable by the elderly man's severe stares, he didn't show it.  
"That's very bad news, Dave," Mitchell said slowly. "Very bad indeed"  
Taking a cigar from a highly decorated metal box from his desk, he continued pensively:  
"It looks like we won't be needing Patrick's services anymore…  
After blowing his cover like that, he won't be of any use to me."  
The older man lit his cigar. Dave waited patiently.  
"But _you,_ my dear boy, you are my most important chess piece right now..  
I'd like you to be careful and keep an eye on that group of commandos that Joe hired."  
Dave merely nodded. The younger man knew that Mitchell had hired a bodyguard who was now standing guard at the other side of the door. Dave could sense the older man was more intimidated than he let on...  
"I am very glad you've been informing me of the men's every move since their arrival and I will reward you for that…" Mitchell continued. "But first things first. The situation tells me that we need to change our priorities and speed up our plans with caution."  
Mitchell puffed a big cloud of smoke from his cigar.  
"If you ever want to take over Joe's company, I think it's time to move on to plan B and find someone new to 'arrange' the accidents we need.  
But not before we have the chair… which… you told me, is still missing."  
Dave placed his hands in his jeans pockets.  
"I am a 100% certain it's at Sean's place. But I didn't have time to look for it properly with those goons around. And if I knew beforehand that this idiot Sean would hide the chair, I wouldn't have …" Dave's voice trailed off when the phone rang.  
Mitchell, clearly annoyed with the disturbance, picked up the phone and answered with an impatient: "Yes? Who's this?"  
Patrick, who had finally found a public payphone to call his boss, was taken aback hearing the angry tone on the other side of the line. By the sounds of it, he'd already been updated on the situation.  
"Patrick here", he said hesitantly. "I'm guessing that you already heard the news?"  
"Yes, Dave informed me...", a cold voice answered him.  
Patrick licked his lips, trying to figure out what Dave told the man exactly, and if it could be in his favor. Which he doubted.  
"Where are you now?" Mitchell's' voice prompted him.  
"I am at the phone booth near Crossroads on 9th st," Patrick answered.  
"Good, I'll have Dave pick you up. He'll be there in ten minutes. We need to talk some serious business". Mitchell said before hanging up the phone.  
Patrick Snarled at the phone in his hand before placing it back. He wasn't happy to hear Dave was the one who was going to pick him up. Neither did the tone of Mitchell's' voice sounded anything promising. He'd better get paid for his hard work… or Mitchell would surely regret it.  
He stepped out of the phone booth and sat down at the pavement, waiting.

* * *

"Aww man…this sucks" Murdock said deeply offended when B.A came out of the basement of the house carrying a throne shaped antique chair together with Hannibal. They put it down on the floor heavily.  
Murdock, who was standing guard, puffed his cheeks and blew out disappointedly.  
"This is _so_ stupid." He mumbled. "Sean just hid that dusty old chair in a dusty old basement. No hunting, not even a tiny pinch of adventure... Now where is the fun in that, huh?!" Murdock muttered, holding his goose egg basket in one hand and a rifle in the other. B.A gave him a warning glare which Murdock chose to ignore.  
"You see that, Fred?" He continued, talking in high speed to his egg while pointing at the chair that Hannibal and B.A were submitting to an examination. "Now _this_ is a great example of sloppy treasure huntin'. I'm simply outraged that Sean didn't even draw a proper treasure map for us! And he only used a simple _rug_ to hide the basement entree. I mean, what was he thinkin'? He should at least have drawn a map with ink and a quill that said 'Ten steps Eastway towards Skull rock and 5 leaps Northway toward the hangman tree. And voila, when the big fat X marks the spot you start diggin'!  
"I will bury you 10 feet under first if you don't stop that jibba jabba and help us!" B.A interrupted the stream of words.  
"Captain, can you hold the chair for us?" Hannibal asked the captain to give him something to do. "Sure colonel", Murdock replied, promptly hiding the egg in his jacket again and swinging the rifle over his shoulder. When he grabbed the top of the chair in his hands he looked down at the detailed and curly woodwork. The chair was made of dark sturdy wood and looked very old. The back of the chair and seat were covered with a red velvet lining.  
"Woaw, a 19th Century Throne-Style English Chair. Better be careful big guy", he whistled.  
B.A was checking the seat, poking it softly with a knife to see if he could lift it.  
"He's right B.A" Hannibal warned him. We don't want to damage the chair…. Sean wrote in the letter that he found it right under the seat, so there should already be an opening somewhere."  
B.A snarled impatiently, but within a minute he'd managed to lift the seat without any damage. Underneath the big seat was a low compartment that contained a big flat package that fit exactly inside. The package was wrapped in white cotton fabric. Carefully, Hannibal lifted it from the seat and unwrapped the parcel, revealing a very old canvas. The canvas was painted with rough oil paint strokes. The colors were blue, brownish and yellow and featured a big drying sunflower on a wooden table. In the corner of the painting was a signature that said 'Vincent'.  
Murdock's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "No...way!" he said while walking around the guys to have a better look at the painting from over their shoulders. B.A and Hannibal looked up at him puzzled. Both men weren't very well known with art history.  
"If that's what I think it is.." Murdock said, "Then I think I suddenly understand what all this fuss is about..".  
"What is it, sucka?" B.A said impatiently. "I'm curious too, captain", Hannibal added, scrutinizing the panel.  
"I think this is a van Gogh", Murdock said, removing Fred from his jacket again to show him the painting too.  
"Possibly created in Arles.." Murdock mumbled."In France during 1888 and 1889. He is known for these sunflowers. He even painted some for his friend Paul Gauguin, another famous artist."  
"Man, how can you possibly know that stuff", B.A sounded both annoyed and slightly admiring.  
"I dunno, I read things and they just stick", Murdock shrugged.  
"It's quite annoying when you don't want them to stick, though", he added.  
"I've heard of van Gogh", Hannibal said, looking with renewed interest at the piece of artwork in their hands and thankful for Murdock's knowledge. If this is the real thing, I'm guessing we're looking at something really special. Any idea about the value of this, captain?".  
Both B.A and Hannibal looked at Murdock expectantly.|  
Murdock awkwardly took a step back holding up his hands (and Fred) protectively.  
"Come on, how would _I_ know!? You guys can't expect me to know _everything_ , I'm no walking encyclopedia, sheesh", Murdock said with a slightly higher and offended voice.  
"Could've fooled me" B.A muttered quietly, slightly disappointed.  
"But I know it's worth a fortune, maybe more". Murdock added quickly with a pointed frown at B.A.  
"Hmpf.. it's just a lot of paint to me" B.A huffed, while standing up and dusting off his knees. Hannibal stood up too, carefully wrapping the canvas back in its cotton layers.  
He looked around the place. There were old paintings and furniture spread around the room. Probably some of Sean's refurbishing projects for Joe. Suddenly an idea came to mind. Hannibal picked up an old faded painting of a vase with flowers that was almost the same size as the van Gogh. He removed the old framing, wrapped the vase painting in the old cotton rags and placed it in the seat of the chair.  
"Clever thinkin', Colonel", Murdock nodded approvingly. Hannibal grinned cunningly while he grabbed an old red blanket and wrapped the van Gogh painting in it.  
"Place that seat back in place B.A, and then we should move the chair back into the basement. Maybe we can use it as a decoy. But we need to hide this real canvas for now. Let's go back to the van and tell Face.

* * *

Face was sitting in the van on Murdock's usual seat. He was wearing a headphone that messed up his blonde hair which, funny enough, gave an extra appeal to his charming appearance. His handsome features looked pensive while checking the notes he'd written down on his notepad. The tracking device and radio were both tuned in. Face had already written down the coordinates of Patrick's current position and he'd been listening to Patrick's phone call with Mitchell. But now all seemed quiet again.  
Next to the phone call, there hadn't been anything else to listen to. Patrick was silent most of the time, and only sometimes muttered something to himself. But nothing concrete had been said that was useful to the team… as of yet.  
The conman already knew where the man was, and he knew he would be picked up within a few minutes by Dave.

Suddenly the door of the van opened, and Face immediately grabbed his gun and aimed at the intruder.  
"Eep! It's only me Facey!" Murdock said quickly. "And Fred", he added, while climbing into the van.  
"A little knock would've been great, Murdock", Face said, slightly out of breath. Murdock shrugged and slumped down heavily in the back seat that Face usually vacated.  
"Did I miss anything interesting?" Face asked, scrutinizing the pilot's face for any clue.  
"Nah… it was a total bust. There was no real treasure hunt, not even a tiny bit of adventure. Heck…there wasn't even a proper map!" Murdock complained with a slight pout.  
Two front doors opened, and Hannibal and B.A both climbed into the van.  
"I wouldn't exactly call this a bust, captain..." Hannibal said sternly while handing Face the package. Face carefully removed the red blanket.  
"A painting?" He said with raised eyebrows.  
Then he looked better… "I can't believe this...A van Gogh? Is this for real?" He gasped while searching his pockets for his eye loupe. Then he cleared his throat and snapped his fingers under Murdock's nose, who immediately searched his own jacket pockets and handed him the loupe (something he forgot to return after their recent scam). Face placed the pocket-sized loupe in front of his eye and took a closer look at the painting.  
"You seem to know your art history too, Face?", Hannibal sounded surprised.  
"You would if you hooked up with a very hot yet slightly boring art historian (who specializes in European paintings) for 3 weeks", Face retorted with a flashing smile. "You come to learn a few interesting things. Like what's real and what's fake."  
"Sexy" Murdock said, wiggling his eyebrows at Face and taking over Face' abandoned notebook and pen.  
Face gave him a smug look, then put the loupe back in his pocket before wrapping the painting inside the blanket with extra care.  
"Of course I'm no expert, but I would like to think this is the real deal. Which explains why Mitchell is taking such great risks trying to get his filthy hands on it."Face said knowingly.  
"And Dave", Murdock added while scribbling energetically on the notepad.  
"So what's next Hannibal?" Face said, glancing at Murdock from the corner of his eyes. The crazy man was unmistakenly drawing a treasure map.  
Hannibal grinned. "We are finally going to meet that sleazeball", he said while folding his arms. His team members all looked up at this.  
"For real this time?" B.A grunted.  
"But we need to make a few phone calls first. Or actually, _you_ do, lieutenant" Hannibal added, ignoring B.A and looking at Face, who moaned.

* * *

Patrick was waiting at the phone booth when he saw Dave's car approach.  
He didn't like the man at all, but he felt he had no choice, though something warned him he shouldn't step into the car. But he had no transport and was in need of a lift.  
Dave parked next to the phone booth and stepped out of the car.  
"Step in. You drive. I need to grab something from the back."  
he said coldly. Patrick snarled but did what he was told and sat down in the driver's seat. At least he would be the one driving. It gave him something to do. While waiting for Dave, he glanced in the rear window and saw that younger man had opened the trunk and was rummaging through it, looking for something. The trunk lid prevented Patrick from seeing what Dave was doing exactly. Patrick sighed and hoped Dave would hurry up so they could go.  
Dave finally opened the door and sat down in the passenger's seat.  
He had his hand inside his jacket pocket and calmly said "Drive..and take a left turn at the end of the road"  
Patrick started the car. "We're not going to Mitchell's?" He asked while driving and taking the turn left.  
"No, Dave said. We're going to run an errand first…"  
"What sort of errand?" Patrick said suspiciously.  
"You'll find out soon", Dave said, removing his hand from under his jacket and aiming a gun at the driver. Patrick's eyes bulked when he saw the gun and wanted to protest.  
"You son of a b*tch", he shouted at Dave.  
"Just drive!" Dave said without changing his tone. His eyes showed no emotion. "And take a turn right here on Franklin street."  
"We're driving to the forests?" Patrick asked. "Why?".  
"You'll find out soon enough", Dave grimaced.  
They drove in silence while Patrick was thinking hard of a way to get out of this situation. During the trip he tried to persuade Dave and get him to change his mind, dreading he would be meeting his end there in that forest.  
Too soon to Patrick's likings, after driving for a long time on a deserted side road, Dave urged him to park under the trees and step out of the car. Patrick thought about running, but Dave climbed behind him over the driver's seat while pointing the gun in his back and holding him by his jacket collar.  
"Where are you taking me?" Patrick demanded. Dave didn't answer. "Move" he simply said.  
There was an eery silence in the forest as if all animals were all holding their breath. Dave pushed Patrick forward toward the trees with his gun, still holding him by the collar. Patrick's senses were on high alert. He was mad and frightened at the same time while adrenaline rushed through his whole body. The men stumbled over the ground that was covered with tree roots. What if he ran? He wasn't sure where exactly they were, but surely the trees could give him some protection. The roots would complicate running, though.  
"Come on Dave. What kinda bloke are you, pointing a gun at me like that? Let's settle this like men, let's both fight with bare hands, huh? Want to fight me? Play fair and drop that gun". Patrick pleaded.  
"Just walk", Dave said.  
"But why!", Patrick yelled at the man. "Why does Mitchell want me dead".  
"You've served your purpose to Mitchell... and to me." Dave said. "And it's not Mitchell who wants you dead, but me." He calmly explained.  
"Too many people know, and you are just one too many. Plus I don't like your ugly face" Dave joked with a mean smile on his face.  
There was only one thing the tattooed man could do.  
An animal instinct took over and Patrick turned around on his heels with a scream, hitting a surprised Dave in the eye with his ringed fist. Dave staggered. There was another scream and a gunshot sounded and echoed through the forest. Then there was silence.

The A-team members looked at each other in horror while wondering what they'd just overheard exactly.  
They had been listening to the whole ordeal, sitting in the van that was now parked in the parking lot in front of Mitchell's antique store. After Face and Hannibal had made their important calls to Joe & Patty (and the hospital where their son Mike was) they had tuned in on the radio transmitter again, to listen to Dave picking up Patrick at the phone booth. Face had unplugged the headphones so they could all listen while driving. The men looked at each other puzzled. Did one of them just murder the other?  
After the gunshot, the connection had gone silent for a while. Suddenly they heard some heavy panting and a moaning sound which slowly ceased to nothing. The sound of rustling leaves could be heard. The team moved closer to the speakers to try and hear more. Face turned up the volume a little higher. They all jumped when they heard Dave's voice loud and clear saying, "Sweet dreams, Patrick".  
"No, he didn't….?" Face broke the silence, looking flabbergasted.  
Hannibal looked at him with a serious face, no twinkle in his eyes this time. "He sure did…, I think we can assume he just assassinated Patrick.." All four men looked grim realizing what it meant.  
"That guy is a loose cannon, Hannibal." Face said whilst rustling a hand through his hair. "Well, I guess there goes our little advantage too. Assuming he's dead, we can't listen to more conversations if his body.." Face paused for a second, "Stays there in that forest. Assuming that Dave leaves him there to ...in lack of better words...rot". Face concluded tentatively.  
"In that case….Time to barge in", Hannibal said. "Let's go".


	17. Chapter 17 - Getting too close

* * * * * *  
I posted this chapter again, because I made a few minor changes. Cliffhanger alert. Don't hate me! ;)  
New chapter coming soon.

Chapter 17 - Getting too close

The four men entered Mitchell's antique store fully armed. Fortunately, there were no customers, which made it even easier to enter without getting noticed.  
Murdock who was carrying a parcel immediately leaped into the aisle where he found the vintage cork helmets the day before. Face walked to the counter in the back of the store where Kate was standing, looking perplexed seeing the man again.  
"Hi Kate, My, how good it is to see you again. How are you doing?" Face asked with his most charming smile while taking her hand in his. Kate was too surprised to answer at first. Feeling both flattered and charmed at the same time, she was also very aware of the armed men standing behind the conman.  
"Hey, I am so sorry about this." Face quickly continued, following her gaze. "I'd really like to ask you out for a lovely moonlight dinner. Just the two of us. But first my friends and I need to have a little conversation with your boss. Is he in?"  
"Y-Yes, but you can't just…" Kate stammered while eyeing B.A's jewelry and mohawk cautiously, then scrutinized the white haired man with his steel blue eyes.  
"You need an appointment, you can't just walk in.." she said weakly.  
"Sure can", B.A growled. He pushed the lady (not unkindly) aside, stepped behind the counter and merged to the door that said 'office', closely followed by Hannibal who chuckled.  
"Coming, Face?"  
"In a minute, colonel." Face answered, looking into Kate's baffled face, which interestingly enough to Face, made her look even more attractive.  
"Now don't be afraid, we only want to talk to Mitchell and then we're off." He said, engaging her eyes, gently taking her chin in his hands and moving her face towards his.  
"But Mr. Luke.." Kate started. But Face interupted her: "Please, call me Templeton..or Face, which one you prefer."  
Kate looked at him with stunning amber colored eyes and something in Face's belly twisted.  
"It's such a pity you work for a man like Mitchell, though", he sighed.  
Murdock emerged from the aisle without the parcel but _with_ a vintage cork helmet on his head and goggles over his eyes.  
"Aw Faceman, she can't help it that her boss is such a crook", Murdock said cheerily while stepping behind the counter, armed with his rifle.  
"I figure you two are no real twin brothers either then..?" Kate said, blankly staring after Murdock  
"No", Face said. "You're right about that, but we _do_.."  
"Finish each other's sentences sometimes", Murdock finished before slipping behind the office door. "See ya in a bit, oh visage man".

Face stayed behind to encourage Kate not to call the cops, and most importantly: to arrange a date for a lovely dinner together.  
In the meantime. B.A entered the corridor to Mitchell's office.  
A big bulky man in a suit was standing in front of a door. When he saw B.A coming he immediately drew his gun. "Stop right th..". But before he could finish that sentence, B.A already fired several shots at the man's feet.  
"Drop your gun!", B.A yelled. The man immediately complied.  
"Nice B.A" Hannibal smiled while grabbing the man's arm and twisting it behind his back. Pushing the man forward, he ordered him to open the door.  
Mitchell who was sitting behind his desk got the scare of his life when the door flung open and two heavily armed men, and his now useless bodyguard, barged in.  
"Good day to you", Hannibal said politely.  
"Now we don't want to interrupt your business…." Hannibal frowned, faking a confused look, then continued, "Oh, hang on.. No I'm sorry. We DO want to interrupt your business... I'd say it's about time we had a serious eye to eye", Hannibal grinned while dropping the bodyguard on the floor.  
Aiming his rifle at Mitchell's chest, who was reaching behind his desk for his own gun, he added: "Nah-ah, try anything and you're swiss cheese! Hands up pal".  
Mitchell's hands quickly rose in the air. Hannibal stepped behind the desk and grabbed the gun from the old man's drawer, putting it between his own belt.  
B.A kicked the bodyguard who tried to get up and placed a foot on his back to keep him on the ground.  
At the same time Murdock arrived too. "What did I miss?". He chirped, looking around at the scene through his goggles and grinning widely at B.A, who stared back at him before rolling his eyes and shaking his head.  
"While we have your attention", Hannibal spoke with a cold menacing voice (all humor gone) "I think it's time to talk business".  
"Who are you guys?" Mitchell tried innocently.  
"Oh, I think you know perfectly well who we are." Hannibal tutted. "Why else would you have hired a baboon to protect you, hm? We work for Joe, and I bet that your little helpers already updated you on this piece of information."  
Hannibal, while still aiming his gun on the older man, walked to the tin box on the desk and opened it. Happy to find a fresh cigar, he took one, bit off the butt and ceremoniously spit it on Joe's desk before he clenched the cigar between his teeth.  
Face walked inside the room while Murdock went back to guard the store front.  
"Now", Hannibal continued while acknowledging Face' presence and nodding at him.  
"We have something _you_ want, and there is something _we_ want.".  
"And that is?" Mitchell snarled through clenched teeth.  
"We want you to know that we have the chair...," Hannibal said, pausing to scrutinize Mitchell's expression. The latter suddenly sat up straight in his desk chair and gave him his full attention.  
Hannibal continued: "And we need you to cough up for all the expenses you caused to harm Joe's business and his people."  
Hannibal turned around and looked at Face.  
"Ah yes", Face said, grabbing his notebook from his pocket and reading from it.  
"Well, it's quite a list to be honest. There are of course the hospital bills for their son Mike. The stolen antiques, the fire and damage from the warehouse. The list goes on and on, plus I inserted our modest fee... If you sum it all up, well.."  
Face carefully ripped the piece of paper with the written amount from his notepad and lay it on the desk in front of Mitchell. The older man picked up the note, eyeing Face suspiciously. His face turned 50 shades of grey (*yes pun intended) when he read the amount on it.  
"You can't be serious. I won't be paying this! This is absurd!", he spluttered.  
"Ohoho, but we are _very_ serious, hey guys?", Hannibal laughed menacingly while glancing at his men, who smiled along.  
"B.A, please show mr. Mitchell 'how' _serious_ we are". Hannibal said with an air of calmness in his voice while taking a puff from his cigar.  
B.A, growling loudly, answered with a hail of bullets, destroying Mitchell's antique bookcase filled with rare volumes and encyclopedias. Snippets of paper snowed down while Mitchell screamed and cried out, watching his precious collections turning into sawdust and confetti. The bodyguard, still kept to the ground by B.A's massive boot, yelped and protected his head with his arms.  
"We'll be seeing you tomorrow at noon at Sean's place" Hannibal said while beckoning his men to leave. "You'll find the address on the note that my man just gave you."  
"And remember, no tricks. We'll be prepared".  
The 3 men dashed out of the room. Mitchell sank down in his chair and looked down at his bodyguard with rising anger.

* * *

Dave was sitting in his still parked car looking vacantly out of his windshield into the forest where he'd left the body. He realised things were getting out of hand. He needed to make a plan.  
On top of the list was the A-team. He really needed to get rid of them first, and then everyone else who knew about his scheme.  
Mitchell would have to go too if he got the chance. Dave's original plan had been so simple. After Joe and Mike would've been eliminated, and the bankruptcy of the company had been announced, he would taken over Joe's Antique Store and run it himself.  
The only thing Mitchell wanted from his was the chair that Joe won at the auction a couple of months ago. It had spiked Dave's curiosity and after some digging and eavesdropping he had found out why the chair was so important to Mitchell. Owning his own store would be nothing compared to owning a major fortune like that. He was soon working with a double agenda. First Joe had to go, and then he would steal the chair and disappear with it. Or maybe he would stay, get rid of Mitchell too, and run the only antique store left in the area. He hadn't decided yet. He didn't care much which one. He just cared about money and power.  
But now there were too many people, all knowing too much. He had to make them disappear. But first he needed to know where that bloody chair was, so he could play out his options. Next stop…. Sean's place.

* * *

It was very late in the afternoon when the team entered Joe's farmhouse. Joe and Patty were staying at friends as Hannibal had advised them. And just to be sure, Face had made some calls to the hospital and had them move the comatose son Mike to an anonymous room in case he would receive unwanted visitors looking for him.

The house was empty, but when the team walked into the kitchen they were welcomed by a lovely smell of food. They found a sweet note from Patty who had prepared a potroast for them with freshly baked bread.  
She told the men to dig in, and that was something they didn't need to be told twice.  
They ate in shifts. Two men guarding the house and perimeter while the others ate. They were aware that Dave might be popping up during the night and they wanted to be prepared for the bloke. After dinner, Hannibal ordered B.A and Murdock to go to Sean's place and guard the area there. He and Face would be guarding the Farmhouse. The men took their walkie talkies with them to stay in contact.

While driving to Sean's place Murdock started his game again.  
"I spie with my little eye, something you still haven't guessed right, and it's still blue!" He said with a boyish voice.  
B.A rolled his eyes. "I told you, I'm playing no games, fool!".  
"Pff, I bet you'll never guess it anyway, since you only have one more try." Murdock sighed while picking at the bandages on his fingers. "Hey, you know what? I'll give you two more tries instead of one!" Murdock said, straigthening up in his chair.  
"Are you deaf, fool? I'm playing no stupid games with you!" B.A barked.  
It went quiet in the van.  
"Your blue t-shirt", B.A grumbled.  
"MEEP, wrong again, one more try left!" Murdock exclaimed cheerfully while looking down at his shirt that said 'I slap you silly". "You know, I wasn't even wearing this one yesterday."  
B.A growled and parked the car behind the trees of Sean's house.  
Before stepping out he grabbed Murdock at his collar and pulled him closer so they were almost nose to nose.  
"Listen up." He growled, looking the crazy man straight in the eyes. "I wanna hear no more nonsense from you. We go guarding this house, and no crazy jibba jabba, understood?!"  
"You got it big guy", Murdock said, swallowing hard and cautiously tapping away the heavily ringed fist that was holding his collar.

* * *

Dave parked near Sean's place, but hid his car between the foliage. He noticed the black van that was parked near the trees, half hidden in the shadows. He knew the area well. It was time to find out who was there.

* * *

Murdock walked around the perimeter with his rifle in his hands and a walkie-talkie attached to his belt. He was still wearing the helmet, though he'd abandoned the goggles.  
Having seen nothing out of the ordinary he started to become a bit bored. He grabbed his walkie-talkie and hit the communication button.  
"Here is Madman to Grumpyman, There is still no sign of the Badman. over." he said, holding his nose for a nasal voice.  
The walkie-talkie crackled before an angry voice bellowed "You crazy fool. If you don't have news, then shut up, or I will come and shut you up personally, OVER". The word 'over' was spoken with extra force.  
Murdock gulped.  
"Guys, keep this frequency open. Understood? over" Hannibal's stern voice came through.  
"Roger sir, sorry sir. Over and out", Murdock quickly answered before hanging the communication device back on his belt. No playing time.  
He continued his route, checking the perimeter for any signs of Dave.  
It had been another long day for the guys, and Murdock in particular was really starting to feel it now. The tall man couldn't suppress a yawn. He was holding his weapon in a weary attitude now. Another 15 minutes passed and still, nothing had happened. He wasn't sure if Dave would actually show himself that night.  
Stifling yet another yawn, Murdock realized he had been up whole day long with only 1 hour of sleep, and it was slowly beginning to take its toll. Hannibal had asked him if he was up to the job to stand guard at Sean's place together with B.A. And at that time he had been fine still full of renewed energy after a good meal. But now, while not much had happened for some time, he was starting to notice his lack of alertness. He figured it must be the same for the big guy, who was checking the other end of the grounds.

When he noticed his eyes started drooping, Murdock slapped himself in the face a couple of times. The prickly pain created a reaction in his body that made him feel alert again, even if only for a moment. With slightly tingling cheeks he looking around to get a better view of his surroundings.  
Without realising it, his feet had brought him close to the old water well near the trees, a place he'd spotted earlier that morning when they were searching the place for Sean. The sun was setting and the sky behind the dark tree silhouettes and water well was vibrantly pink.  
"Will you look at that, Fred". Murdock said to his egg while taking it out of his jacket to show the pretty scene. "Have you ever seen something pretty like this before?"  
Holding the egg in one hand and the weapon in the other, he strolled closer to the well while enjoying the beautiful view. It was getting dark soon and the long shadows were slowly disappearing in the twilight.  
Involuntarily a shudder ran over his body and a feeling he couldn't put his finger on crept over him. Something didn't feel right about the scene. He remembered that the water well he'd seen that morning had been covered with a big wooden lid. But for reasons unknown, the lid was gone now. Murdock looked down into a big gaping depth. He could not see anything down in the pitch black darkness below. Where was that lid?  
Feeling very alert, Murdock carefully walked around the well, looking around him to see any strange movements close by. Seeing the well from up close, he noticed it was quite big and old, square-shaped and made of old pieces of crumbled wood. Next to the well was a metal construction with a pulley and a basket with a spout hanging from an old rope. Checking the state of it, it looked like it hadn't been used in decades. Suddenly Murdock's whole body stiffened. He wasn't sure if he actually heard anything, but his sixth sense told him he wasn't alone anymore.  
"Fred, I'll leave you here for a bit, so you'll be nice and behave, okay?". Murdock whispered while laying down the little basket, with the egg wrapped in its yellow towel, in the grass right next to the well.

Warily he straightened up from his crouched position, both hands on his rifle now. Slowly he walked around the well facing the area around him. Then he saw the lid, lying in the grass near the trees. He approached it curiously while keeping his eyes focused on the trees in front of him, checking it for every movement.  
But before he even reached the lid, a presence behind him made him turn around quickly. But not quick enough! Before Murdock even had time to turn around fully, he was hit hard with a baseball bat on his shoulder. Murdock yelped as the rifle was released from his grip and fell into the grass. Murdock's arm felt limp and he looked up in the vicious eyes of Dave, who had already raised his bat for another hit. Dazed by the pain, the lanky pilot ducked and grabbed the rifle. Dave missed with just a few inches. The lanky pilot caught the rifle just in time and rolled on his back, firing in the air while Dave took another swing at him. Murdock got up quickly, but the younger man was faster. Dave caught the lanky pilot on the side of the head. Though the cork helmet took away some of the brute force that the younger man had put into this swing, it was enough to make Murdock's vision explode with tiny bright white stars. Momentarily losing his vision, Murdock staggered forward and fell hard on his side against the wooden edge of the well. Manically moving his free hand in front of him to try and prevent Dave from attacking him again, he tried to shake off the dancing spots and blinked hard to see where his attacker was. But he simply couldn't focus.  
Seeing Dave's cold eyes during the attack, made it clear that he was out of luck, being too far away from the house. He wanted to scream for help, but no sound reached his lips. His body felt limp and tired as he slumped with his back against the well. He wished B.A was there to help him, but he knew it was too late when he felt two strong hands grabbing him by the shoulders, lifting him up and then pushing him backward with brute force. Again, the rifle fell out of Murdock's hands and bounced into the well where it landed with a loud thud. Murdock tried to resist and struggled with all the force he had left, realizing he was hanging (with his back painfully bent backward) far over the edge of the well. He grabbed what felt like an arm but, without any warning, was hit on the cheekbone by a fist. Another flurry of bright white dots blinded his vision while he was losing his balance. His helmet finally fell into the darkness first.  
"Time to say farewell you pathetic weirdo", a voice hissed in his ear.  
"Back at you, you psycho", Murdock croaked fighting hard to stay conscious before another blow finally made him lose his grip and launch him backward. Murdock felt himself tumbling over the edge of the well and fall down.  
He didn't even have time to yell. Hitting the bottom hard he realized it hadn't felt as solid as he'd anticipated. It felt softer than rock, but nevertheless, it was enough to knock the air out of his lungs. Murdock rolled onto his side while crumbling into a ball. He was breathing hard to overcome the pain and the cold darkness that was steadily creeping over him.

With some effort, he struggled to turn his head and look up to see the blurry opening of the well. A square-shaped patch of pink sky could be seen above him, featuring the dark silhouette of a person who was silently looking down upon him. Then the silhouette disappeared and shortly after, the light started disappearing too. The whole scene looked unearthly. It almost resembled an idiotic square-shaped lunar eclipse when the pink sky was slowly replaced by total darkness and Murdock realized that Dave had put the lid back on the well. Screaming sounds pounded Murdock's ears when flashbacks from Vietnam 's POW camps started to overcome him. Being locked up in small dark places without any light and any hope to be found quickly overtook his brain. He was alone, all alone! Murdock wanted to cry out for help, but the flashbacks clouded his mind and the excruciating fear, combined with the pain in his entire body made him fade away in the darkness of a merciful unconsciousness. His eyes closed and his head lolled to the side as everything around him went blissfully silent.


	18. Chapter 18 - Comfortably numb

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hurray for a new chapter. This is a rather long one. Thanks for your reviews on my previous chapters. I hope this one didn't turn out too long without losing speed. I wanted to write down the guy's emotions. Please let me know your thoughts.

Chapter 18 - Comfortably numb

* * *

B.A was walking the perimeter at the other side of the house when he heard an echoing gunshot in the distance.  
The big man spun around on his heels, his rifle ready to fire.

"Murdock?" B.A shouted.

His body tensing and his ears pricked up, he waited for another sound, but nothing came. Never leaving his eyes from his surroundings, he started moving in the direction he thought the sound was coming from. He guessed it was somewhere behind the house, but he couldn't be sure. While walking fast, he grabbed his walkie-talkie and hit the communication button.  
"B.A to Murdock, do you copy, over?" He said talking into the device.  
A small crackle, but no response.  
"Murdock, are you okay? Answer me fool! Over!" B.A repeated.  
Eerie silence.  
Then another crackling sounded, and the firm voice of Hannibal could be heard over the device:  
"Hannibal to B.A. Are you guys in trouble? Report! Over"  
B.A who had by now arrived at the backside of the house was overlooking the area while answering:  
"Can't be sure. Heard a gunshot, can't find the fool. Got not response. Over".  
"Try and find him. Let us know if you need our assistance. Over". Hannibal said sounding urgent.  
"Roger that, over and out", B.A replied gruffly and moved the walkie-talkie to his belt.

Taking a quick decision, he decided to walk the perimeter again but with a wider angle this time. The sky was steadily growing darker and soon it would be too dark to see anything. B.A feverishly checked the grounds. He went into the shed where he found a flashlight (which he took gratefully) but still no sign of his crazy friend. B.A's temper was rising and his muscles started to tense up. If something happened to the fool, he would never forgive himself. The crazy man had better not be joking around this time or he'll had to pay... This was no laughing matter. But something in his gut told B.A that this wasn't one of his buddy's pranks. And he was pretty sure that Dave had something to do with the radio silence. Where was Murdock? And where was that son of a b*tch, Dave?

* * *

The young blonde man was spying on the bejeweled guy from his hiding spot between the trees near the house. Holding his baseball bat and flashlight, which he had turned off, he followed his every move while the dark man was frantically searching for his teammate.  
"Keep looking you big log..." Dave grinned to himself.  
"You'll never find him."  
He was hoping for B.A to move away from the house. When he saw B.A enter the shed, Dave finally made his move. As quietly as he could, he ran towards the front door of the old house and quickly slipped inside. He had to find the chair fast. Now, where could it be?

* * *

While daylight was rapidly fading, B.A felt waves of frustration, mixed with pure anger and fear, hitting him like lightning. Where hadn't he searched yet? What did he miss? Or did Murdock just leave? Was he abducted? Maybe he should ask for assistance. Another 15 minutes had passed without any result, and the clock was ticking.  
Peering into the distance, he saw a couple of trees standing close together.  
In front of them, he could see a wooden construction that looked man-made. It was too far away to identify it, but his instincts told him to check it out because he hadn't been in that area yet. With his rifle ready, B.A walked resolutely toward the construction while keeping a sharp eye on his surroundings. It seemed like every shadow that looked out of the ordinary made him jumpy.  
When the bejeweled man finally got close enough, he recognized the old water well for what it was. Reaching for his flashlight, he passed the well and slowly checked the perimeter. Switching on the light, B.A started searching the grounds around the trees for anything that stood out, like traces of a fight.  
But still nothing.  
B.A growled in desperation, wondering what should be his next move. Moving the beam of light around, he aimed at the well. Suddenly something small and bright colored caught his eye. Was it a parcel? Or was it..?

"Fred..!"

Recognizing the little basket with the yellow towel, B.A ran towards the wrapped goose egg and crouched down. Searching the ground for a clue, he noticed that it had become intensely quiet around him. The last bit of sunlight had disappeared behind the trees, making him thankful for finding the flashlight earlier.  
He let the light beam glide over the ground and finally noticed footprints and disrupted grass. Clearly, there had been a struggle here. Standing up, B.A glared at the lid that covered the water well. An ice cold shiver ran down his spine. Instinctively he knew what happened.  
Grabbing the lid with both hands, he tore it away from the opening and threw it on the ground where it shattered in pieces.

"Murdock!" He yelled.

No answer.  
With shaking hands, he grabbed the flashlight and aimed it into the dark pit. The bulky sergeant let out a growl when he saw the lanky frame of his friend lying motionless on the bottom of the well.  
And next to him… someone else!

* * *

Face and Hannibal entered Joe's farmhouse when the walkie-talkie started to crackle.  
"B.A to Hannibal. I found Murdock. Need assistance right away. Do you copy? Over!"  
Face eyes widened as he gave Hannibal a concerned look.  
Hannibal quickly replied. "Copy that, What's his status, over?"  
"Don't know man. Don't look good. He's passed out on the bottom of the water well. Don't know how he got there. Need to find a way to get him out of it. Over". B.A's voice sounded worried.  
"Roger that sergeant, we're on our way, over and out".  
Hannibal hurriedly entered the living room and looked through all the cabinets until he found the first aid kit that they'd used that morning.  
Face dashed upstairs. Entering the bedroom that was used by B.A and Murdock, he looked around. Where was it? Crouching down, he looked under Murdock's bed and found what he had been looking for. The duffel bag with his belongings and meds.

"Face, hurry up!", Hannibal called from downstairs.

"Coming!" Face answered, running down the stairs, two at a time, while swinging the bag over his shoulders.

"Good thinking, lieutenant", Hannibal said, approvingly eyeing the duffel bag. "Now let's go."

Hannibal steered Patty's borrowed car at high speed over the side road leading to Sean's place.

"Shit Hannibal, What do you think happened?", Face said looking at the trees speeding by fast while Hannibal stepped on the gas pedal.

"Dave…" Hannibal replied with a grim face."He is as slippery as a weasel. He's probably trying to get to us one by one."

"He's just one guy..", Face said pensively.

"Yes, but like you said, he's a loose cannon which makes him unpredictable, and that's a dangerous thing," Hannibal said, parking the car with shrieking tires.

They quickly found B.A who was trying to talk with Murdock at the well.  
"Is he conscious B.A?", Hannibal hurried to accompany him. The commander could read the worry from his sergeant's face.

"No", B.A answered gruffly.

He briskly turned around to grab a rope from the grass. The mechanic had already busied himself with the pulley to make the construction steady enough to go down and drag his friend out of that hell hole.  
Then B.A suddenly grabbed Hannibal's arm and said with a serious look in his eyes: "He's not alone".  
The colonel raised an eyebrow as he took the flashlight from B.A to peer over the edge.  
His eyes widened and he mumbled: "Oh no….".  
"What?" Face asked, peeking over the edge too. Then he gasped.  
Next to Murdock was another person lying in an awkward position at the bottom of the well.  
It was Sean.

"Is he…?" Face began, but Hannibal interrupted him.

"We'll find out soon enough... B.A, how does this thing work?"

A minute later, Hannibal and Face helped B.A down with the rope and pulley construction.  
B.A noticed the goosebumps on his arms. The closer he got to his teammate, the more frightened he was to find out about Murdock's condition. Face shone the flashlight in the well so the mechanic could use both his hands. Momentarily it shone over Murdock's face who looked ghostly pale. The bottom of the well felt cold and humid, but at least the ground wasn't muddy. There wasn't much space to stand, and B.A had to be careful not the step on either man.  
Crouching down he shakily put two fingers in Murdock's neck. He sighed with relief when he felt a pulse. He did the same with Sean, but the gray complexion of his skin and odd angle of his head told him as much. The man's dull eyes were half open as he stared into nothingness. B.A swallowed hard as bile rose up in his throat.  
Angrily swallowing it away, he grunted "Sean's dead".  
A thought flashed through his mind. The same could've happened to Murdock if he hadn't found that stupid egg in time.  
There was a pause from above, then Hannibal's voice sounded from above:  
"As harsh as it sounds...we have to leave him there. It's evidence against Dave. We are going to nail that bastard for his crimes".  
The colonel spoke calmly, but both men heard the suppressed anger and determination in his words.  
"Get Murdock out of there and try not to leave any prints or evidence behind," Hannibal added.

B.A grunted and bent down, gently checking Murdock's arms, legs, and abdomen for any breaks or bullet wounds. With an angry frown, he noticed dark the bruises appearing on the man's cheekbone. It was unnerving to see him lying there so lifelessly. Close to the pilot, he found the vintage helmet with goggles and the man's rifle. At least the attacker hadn't been able to lay his hands on the weapon. With the lack of light, he couldn't be sure, but the lanky man didn't seem to have any bleeding bullet wounds. B.A could only hope there weren't any internal injuries. Either way, the captain still had to be lifted out of that damned hole, and fast! B.A crouched down and with surprising ease, he lifted his tall but lean friend in a firefighter carry. Murdock moaned when he was elevated from the floor but stayed quiet after that, hanging limply over B.A's back while the big man climbed back up the well. Face and Hannibal helped moving the pilot from B.A's back to lay him on the grass. B.A went back down to grab the rifle and helmet and did his best to remove any evidence or footprints left by either Murdock or himself. Before climbing back up, the big man glanced one more time at Sean's lifeless form. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he figured that it might have saved Murdock's life to land on top of the body instead of the cold stony ground. He didn't want to think of it and shook off the feelings. He couldn't save this man no more. With a vicious snarl, he climbed his way back up the well. Somebody was going to pay for this!

* * *

Eureka! Dave had to restrain himself from shouting it out. He had found the chair! It had been fairly easy since he'd known the house pretty well. Before Sean lived there, he and Mike would sometimes come there to secretly drink some beers together to escape the judging eyes of Patty. And he also knew about the basement which was hidden under a hatch in the floor of the old utility room. It was located next to the kitchen. A great place to hide things, like booze, or …. in this case, antique chairs. But now what? He couldn't move the chair on his own fast enough and slip out of the house unseen. It was way too big and heavy for that. So he had to search for the painting right here and right now. Suddenly he heard a door opening, and a distant sound of scuffling feet and low voices could be heard. Dave cursed under his breath for taking too much time to find the chair. He was trapped! Quickly he closed the latch and hoped the men would stay out of the room and wouldn't notice that the carpet had been moved. He was confined to the basement while the commandos were up there, who were now occupying the small living room. At least he still had his gun and his baseball bat...

* * *

The men had carried Murdock back to Sean's house and lay him on the couch. So far he hadn't responded to any of the movement at all. Face, trying to keep his face straight, kept glancing at the pilot while Hannibal checked his vitals.  
"His breathing is shallow, Hannibal." Face said with a concerned voice.  
Hannibal nodded looking worried. "I just hope he doesn't have any internal damage,"  
As if he'd heard their voices, Murdock suddenly took a shuddering breath. His eyes slowly opened halfway. A look of relief crossed the conman's face at seeing his friend awake.  
"Hey, welcome back buddy!", he said while grabbing one of Murdock's cold hands and squeezing it.  
But there was no response. Murdock slowly blinked one more time, then gazed into space.  
"Murdock?" Face tried again, but nothing, not even a grimace or a smile.  
Face quickly put his cheek in front of Murdock's mouth to check if he was still breathing.  
To his relief he was. Hannibal checked Murdock's eyes while shining them with his flashlight.  
"His pupils are dilated, but they react to the light. That's at least a small comfort." Hannibal mumbled.  
"But why isn't he responding?" B.A grumbled, sounding bothered.  
The colonel didn't reply but instructed B.A to help Murdock sit upright so he and Face could remove his jacket and flannel shirt. He needed to see if his man had any more injuries from his fight or the fall. His legs seemed okay, but while removing the flannel shirt, Hannibal could see some bruising around Murdock's neck and left collarbone from under the rim of his t-shirt.  
Murdock didn't even do so much as blink or flinch at his examination. All he did was staring blankly into nothing, seemingly unaware of his surroundings.  
With scissors from the first aid kit, the colonel cut the t-shirt away. He hissed as he revealed the swollen dislocated shoulder that was already coloring black and blue. Murdock sat propped up against B.A, his head leaning heavily against the big man's shoulder and his eyelids half closed.

"I am hoping that I am making the right decision here, but we need to pop back his shoulder to prevent any more damage," Hannibal said. "We should let him be examined by a doctor later on…," he added.  
He looked at the pilot for a moment before making a decision.  
"Face, B.A, just hold him still. This will be painful".  
Looking into Murdock's dull eyes, Hannibal explained to the captain what he was going to do.  
But if Murdock was hearing him, he wasn't showing any sign of it.  
With clear experience, Hannibal took the man's arm and with a quick movement popped the shoulder back into its socket. Not even a wince or a twitch of an eye was seen on his pilot's pale features. Though he seemed to be perspiring a little. Resting a hand on Murdock's cheek, Hannibal could feel the man was clammy.

"What's wrong with him Hannibal", B.A said while helping Murdock into a sitting position with his back leaning against the couch. He seemed to be okay to sit on his own.  
"I'm not sure", Hannibal answered. His steel blue eyes looked worried. As careful as they could, they dressed the quiet man back into his flannel shirt again. At least it could be buttoned up and would keep him warm. Hannibal moved Murdock's left arm in a bent position across his chest and applied a sling. Murdock's limbs simply moved along with everything Hannibal did.  
Hannibal frowned. He hesitated a second, then moved Murdock's right arm a little bit upward and let go. The arm stayed in the same position he'd left it in while Murdock sat unblinkingly and slightly slumped on the couch. It confirmed the colonel's suspicions. It had been years since he'd last seen the captain in a state like this, and it was always triggered by trauma or flashback.  
B.A, who sat closest to Murdock looked confused at first. But then his face changed, and a knowing look appeared in his eyes.  
Face, who was observing Hannibal's actions also made the connection, mumbling: "He's catatonic.."  
"The last time I saw him like that must've been more than 10 years ago", Hannibal sighed. "I am no expert, but I'm guessing it was triggered by tonight's' events"  
B.A's temper was rising again.  
"When I found him, the lid was covering the well. He must've been scared out of his mind, alone in a dark small place like that", he growled.  
"How long will this last?" Face asked anxiously.  
"Hours, days, weeks...maybe a month? I really don't know. Nowadays he's taking medication, so I'm hoping it won't linger that long this time." Hannibal replied warily.  
Seeing his captain like this, he suddenly felt very tired and old.  
"Maybe we can try and give him his meds. I know he hasn't taken them tonight," Face said hopefully. "If we can get him to swallow them though," he added gloomily.  
The colonel nodded. "We could try that, but I don't know if it will help."

B.A angrily slammed the side of the couch with his fist. He hated the defeated look on the colonel's face and he couldn't stand seeing the normally so fidgety pilot being as motionless as a rock.  
Crouching down at Murdock's knees he looked into the pilot's dull eyes that missed their usual sparkle.  
"Come on Murdock. Don't let us down now. You have to come back to us, fool!"  
But the pilot didn't respond.  
The mechanic wasn't going to let this pass so easily. He grabbed the pilot's right hand and squeezed it a tad bit too hard to get any form of acknowledgment.  
"I'll even go on a plane with you!" He tried reluctantly.  
Face and Hannibal both raised their eyebrows at each other before looking at B.A again who gave them a warning glare. "Don't say a word, suckas!" he mumbled.

Suddenly another shuddering sigh went through the pilot. The three men looked at him expectantly but it was instantly followed with disappointment. The lanky pilot didn't get out of his state although his expression seemed slightly different.  
Face took the basket with the egg from his coat. He didn't tell Hannibal or B.A that he had picked it up from the well and put it inside his coat to keep it warm.  
"At least he still has Fred," he said hopefully, placing the egg on Murdock's lap while carefully folding the man's free hand over the basket.  
He was secretly hoping it would trigger another reaction.  
"That egg saved his life...", B.A said with rumbling voice. "If I hadn't found it.."  
The three men said nothing for a while.  
"Maybe we should try and give him his medication, Face". Hannibal finally sighed, standing up from his crouched position with popping knees.  
"I don't know what else to do at this point".

Face nodded and headed for the kitchen to find a glass of water. B.A got up too and angrily kicked an old footstool through the room.

* * *

Dave was standing right under the floor of the living room. Listening intently to the conversations of the three men, he looked smug. Even though he was disappointed to hear that the commandos had found their guy so fast, he was pleased to learn that the crazy lunatic was still out for the count.  
Good... Very good.  
It would make his escape the easier now the men were occupied with their teammate.  
Finding the canvas had been a piece of cake once he'd found the chair. He was holding the wrapped painting tightly to his chest while making a plan to get out. He had to go through the living room. There was no other exit. Silently he pulled his gun from under his belt and removed the safety lock. There was movement in the kitchen. It was time to act.

* * *

Murdock was feeling like his head was filled with soft cotton balls. Everything was so comfortably detached from him. Sounds were soft and humming, feelings or hurt non-existent. All his senses seemed numbed down. He vaguely remembered angst and darkness, but it seemed so long ago now. And so far away too. Though, for some reason, he'd started to become more aware of his surroundings.  
He remembered opening his eyes. It wasn't dark anymore. He seemed to be in a space that was lamp lit.  
Did he want to find out more? Investigate perhaps? He couldn't decide. Or actually, he couldn't really be bothered to decide. Things moved too fast around him and it was ever so hard to focus. He could see silhouettes but didn't care to concentrate on them. It was like time had slowed down inside his mind and it was okay. No one to bother him here, no one to hurt him.  
But still... there was that familiar presence around him.  
Someone tried to talk to him.  
"Welcome back buddy!"  
Was that Face? Welcome back?  
"Did I go somewhere? And did I come back? From what?" Murdock wasn't sure. He wasn't sure if he cared either. Should he?  
He tried to summon his energy to form a reply for his best friend, but before he knew it, the moment was gone. Missed his cue so to say, Oh well... He just felt so tired, maybe he could close his eyes for a bit? But he didn't remember how.  
"Never mind..I'll leave them open.."  
Murdock thought he'd heard the voice of the colonel. Saying something about a shoulder... Did he have a shoulder? Or a body? Vaguely he felt a movement of his arm. Yep, he seemed to have a body alright. Limbs an' all. The colonel said it would hurt. But if it did, it didn't matter. Hurt was just a concept that he didn't remember at the moment, like blinking.  
But what else didn't he remember…? Was it important to remember?  
Slowly, very slowly, his thoughts started to constrict into a tiny whirlpool of emotions.  
There was another voice. The big guy? He sounded scared.  
Nah... Impossible, it was the big guy we were talking about. But what is he asking?  
"Come back to us"..  
 _Maybe I should try. Maybe I really should..._

* * *

Dave slowly opened the latch of the basement a few inches. It was just enough to see that the coast was clear in the utility room. He could hear sounds coming from the kitchen. Silent as a mouse he crawled out of his hiding space, the canvas tucked away on his back in an improvised backpack made of torn pieces of blankets and knots. That way he had both hands free.  
The latch creaked ever so slightly, but it was enough to make Dave hold his breath. The sounds in the kitchen stopped for a mere second but then continued. Dave breathed out. With his gun ready, and his baseball bat hanging from his belt, the young man slowly slid open the door of the utility room that gave access to the kitchen. He opened it just enough to see one of the 3 men going through the cupboards.  
Dave thanked his luck when he saw it was the handsome one, and not that big bejeweled giant.

The conman was now standing with his back to Dave, filling a glass of water at the tap. Brilliant. Now he only had to move quickly. Dave jumped out of his hiding space and aimed the gun at Face who immediately turned around.  
"Don't move..hands in the air." Dave said calmly while approaching Face and turning him around roughly.  
"Ah, look what the cat dragged in" Face said sarcastically putting his hands in the air.  
"Move", Dave growled.  
When the conman didn't immediately obey, Dave cuffed him around the temple with his gun. Face's momentary daze gave Dave the opportunity to grab him by the collar and hold the gun directly against the back of his neck. "Now move", he said with a vicious voice before pushing the conman roughly into the living room.  
B.A and Hannibal jumped up when Face was pushed into the room followed closely on his heels by Dave. The sergeant let out an angry cry and clenched his fists menacingly.  
"You two, kick those rifles to me and stand against the wall or your friend gets it," Dave said calmly as he pushed his gun harder into Face's neck.  
"Now there, Face, you disappoint me." Hannibal said airily while doing as he was told, "When I asked to bring me a cup of water, I didn't mean you to bring in the trash too"  
"Yeah well, I'm not particularly proud of that one myself", Face joked back, flinching at the cold gun against his flesh.  
"Shut up", Dave said while looking around and making a quick decision.  
Without a warning, he kicked Face in the shins and leaped at the motionless captain. Face stumbled forward and fell over the glass coffee table that broke with a loud crash. Before he could get up, Dave was already holding the gun against Murdock's temple who didn't seem to give it any notice. Though Hannibal could've sworn he'd seen a small twitch of the captain's eye when Face crashed in front of him.  
Dave grinned. "It's a good thing I overheard you guys. So this idiot here is not doing so well, eh? Let's put it to a test, shall we?"  
Before anybody could react, Dave gave Murdock a smack against the back of his head. Besides the slight head movement, the captain didn't do so much as blink. "Now this is fun", Dave giggled, hitting Murdock a second time.  
B.A hurled himself toward Dave, but the younger man immediately put the gun against Murdock's temple again. The bulky mechanic hesitated and stopped in track  
"Don't even think about it, you big oaf", Dave snarled through clenched teeth. "You make a move, and your friend bites the dust. And this time I won't be so sloppy".  
Dave pointed at a coil of rope in the corner.  
"You!", he addressed Face, "Get up and grab that rope. Then bind the hands of your friends, and then bind them to those chairs".  
Face got up hesitantly, his hands were bleeding from the cuts he received after tumbling over the glass table.  
"Do it now!" Dave roared, striking Murdock for a third time to make Face move.  
The conman reluctantly did what he was told, hoping he could prevent the man from hitting Murdock again. He bound his friends to a chair with mournful eyes. Hannibal and B.A were staring daggers at Dave, thinking of a way to get out of the situation without hurting their pilot.  
"Now come here and bring that rope with you", Dave said.  
As Face did what he was told, he was thinking hard of a way to overpower the young man.  
Eyeing Murdock with growing agitation, he noticed that his friend was still gazing in space, seemingly unaware of the danger around him. If Face would try and attack Dave, there was a great risk that the man would manage to pull the trigger. He was still holding the gun right to Murdock's temple.  
"What can I do!", Face thought in frustration.  
"Turn around", Dave said, grabbing the rope with his free hand from Face's hands.  
As Face obeyed, he immediately got hit on the back of his head with the butt of the gun. The conman fell on his knees, white dots hovering in front of his eyes. Before he could recover, Dave jumped upon him and bound his hands on his back.  
"I really can't be careful enough with you guys." He snarled while dragging Face to the chairs where Hannibal and B.A were sitting. B.A was wriggling hard to find a way out of his boundings but to no avail.

Dave looked around for a second. His eyes glinted when he found what he was looking for.  
"So here's the deal", he said, walking to a cupboard in the back of the room that contained several bottles of paint, varnish, and turpentine.  
"You've been in my way since day 1, and you've been sticking your noses in other people's business way too much to my likings".  
He opened one of the bottles and took a small sniff, immediately recoiling from it. Then he walked back to the three bound men, continuing his story.  
"That means I simply have to get rid of you. You understand that right? So I was thinking..., a big fire in an old house that's filled with flammable liquids and antique wood... that wouldn't be too suspicious, would it?"  
"If you can explain the corpses that will be found in that particular house afterward... Then no, I don't think it would be suspicious at all", Hannibal retorted sarcastically.  
"I'll think of something", Dave smiled while pouring the turpentine over the three men who jerked their heads away to avoid eye contact with the toxic liquid.  
Dave took a few steps back to look at the scenery.  
"Now, who's got a lighter", he said calmly, realizing he didn't have one on him.

There was a pause while the three men were scrutinizing Dave with a wary expression.  
"I got one", Hannibal suddenly said cheerfully. "You can borrow mine. It's in my left pocket."  
Face groaned. "Why do you always have to help them, Hannibal".  
"Sorry Face, it's in my nature to help people," Hannibal grinned.  
Dave walked closer to the group. B.A snarled at the younger man.  
"No tricks old man," Dave warned the colonel as he searched through his jacket with one hand while holding the gun in the other.  
"Now there, would I ever do such a thing?" Hannibal asked innocently. Face and B.A both snorted.  
Dave was just about to make a remark, not understanding why the three men were suddenly so cheerful when suddenly a hand stretched out from behind him and grabbed Dave in a chokehold. The other hand slapped away the gun before continuing its grip and twisted the kid's arm behind his back in an awkward position. Dave was so surprised, he didn't even have a second to respond and fight back.

"Guess who dropped his forcefield!", Murdock hissed in his ear.

His eyes were darker than ever…

TBC


	19. Chapter 19 - Dark places

* * * * * *  
Hey again. Thanks for the great reviews once more! I hope I didn't keep you hanging for too long there, and hope you'll enjoy this new chapter. We are getting close to the finish now.

Chapter 19 - Dark Places

"Hurry B.A!"  
B.A was using all the strength he could muster to struggle out of the ropes. He had to be faster! Hannibal shouted at Murdock and Face was pleading with him.  
"Murdock, Snap out of it!"  
"Shit" B.A muttered, putting more force on the boundings which made the ropes cut painfully into his flesh. He grinded his teeth.  
"Stand down, Captain. That's an order!" Hannibal shouted.  
"Murdock, buddy, listen to us," Face pleaded. "Wake up!".  
*SNAP* Finally! The muscular man quickly released himself from his entanglement before running to Murdock. The lanky captain was still keeping Dave in a chokehold. His body rigid and his right arm was curled around his victim's throat, which he held in place with his left hand to enforce his grip. He was hissing unintelligibly between clenched teeth. It scared the sergeant seeing his friend like this. The younger man was now hanging limply in Murdock's arms, still grasping at the captain's arm around his throat, but his efforts grew weaker by the second. Dave's lips started to turn blue, and his pale blue eyes eyes had rolled backward in his skull. But Murdock seemed too transfixed on holding him. His eyes dark and wild.  
"Let go, fool. You'll kill him" B.A said, trying to release the younger man from Murdock's arms. But Murdock spun around with force and backed away from the black man. His grip seemed to be made of iron.  
"Dropped forcefield... Must protect Unit...Must protect….unit" Murdock almost spit the words while staring unseeingly at the ground. His face was bruised and ghostlike. A drop of sweat pearled down from his temple.  
"Let go, buddy. We're safe. Don't need to protect us no more", B.A tried more gently now while trying to make eye contact. He wasn't sure whether he should try and touch the pilot again or maybe tackle him before he killed the man. He knew Murdock would regret it if he knew he killed someone with bare hands. He seemed to be in some sort of trance. But Murdock's face had slightly changed at his words. It looked like an electric jolt ran through the pilot's body.  
"S...Safe…" he shuddered. Murdock blinked and looked up at the big guy for the first time, recognition in his eyes. "B…..B.A?" He asked with a look of puzzlement on his face. Then, suddenly exhausted, he dropped the younger man on the floor. Dave bounced off the tiles and stayed there motionless.  
Murdock, as if seeing Dave for the first time, staggered backward in shock, muttering: "no...". The crazy man was trembling all over his body and started swaying dangerously on his feet. B.A was only just in time to catch him before the captain's knees buckled.  
Supported by the muscular man, he hung heavily from his shoulder. The captain stared down at Dave in horror.  
"Did…..Did I kill him?", Murdock asked anxiously.  
B.A, relieved to see the captain grasping at reality again, helped him on the couch and went back to check on the semi-conscious man on the ground, who was now gulping lungs full of air.  
"A cockroach is hard to kill," he grunted, giving the man a small kick against his foot. "He's fine."  
B.A turned around to get the ropes to bind Dave when Murdock hoarsely cried: "Watch out B.A."  
Dave, still breathing heavily, was suddenly scrambling back to his feet, and stuck out a leg between B.A's ankles. The big man launched forward and lurched onto the floor. But his reflexes were fast as ever. He rolled over and before the unsteady Dave even had enough foot on the ground to do anything else, he was kicked and propelled backward. The big man was immediately on top of him.  
"REAL stupid thing to do", B.A boomed, coarsely lifting Dave's head from the ground by his collar.  
Raising his fist, the bulky man growled: "Time to meet my fist, sucka!"  
It was the last thing Dave heard before being punched into oblivion.  
The black man made a point of demonstratively dusting off his hands and clothes before binding Dave by hand and feet and releasing an aggravated Face and a chuckling Hannibal.  
"Ain't nothin' funny about that, Hannibal," B.A fumed.  
Still breathing hard through his nose thrills, B.A made sure the young man could not even wiggle a toe after he was done with him. The sucker had made him absolutely livid.

Murdock had found Fred on the couch. His body still shaking all over and his left arm protectively propped up against his chest, he sat down. Vacantly stroking the egg on his lap with his right hand, he tried to calm down a chaotic whirlwind of thoughts.  
Had he completely lost his mind this time? Did he almost kill a man? What if the big guy hadn't stopped him?  
"You better put that arm back in that sling I made you and keep it still," Hannibal interrupted his thoughts while sitting down next to the man. When Murdock looked puzzled, the colonel helped him readjust his arm back into the sling again. "Oh..," was all that Murdock said.  
"So, how goes it, captain?" Hannibal asked, seeing Murdock wince slightly while leaning back with his head against the couch.  
Face sat down at the other side of Murdock, eyeing him in concern.  
"Yes, how are you doing, buddy?" he asked, checking the pilot up and down.  
"Oh shucks, you know me, I'm just fine an' dandy," Murdock lied unconvincingly with a ghost of a smile. Glancing sideways he quickly changed the subject and grabbed one of Face's bloodied hands.  
"But what about you Faceman? You're all bloody!".  
"Let me see that Lieutenant," Hannibal said, grabbing the first aid kit from the floor.  
The colonel was relieved to see there were only minor cuts. He quickly cleaned the wounds (while Face protested loudly that the colonel didn't have to fuss so much over him) and applied a couple of band-aids.  
Hannibal was silently thanking the heavens that his men were still alive. They'd had encountered many dangerous people in the past, but none of them as unpredictable as Dave. He didn't care if he was mothering his men like a mother hen right now. He needed to do something useful and show them he cared. He was grateful that they were at least safe from the psychopath. Eyeing Murdock, he knew the pilot was far from doing fine. But all he could do was be there for him and listen if the man wanted to talk.  
When the colonel was done, Face wiggled his band-aid fingers next to Murdock's equally covered hands (a little souvenir from the angry geese that morning).  
"Now we match!" Face tried to cheer up his friend, realizing that this was usually a joke Murdock would make.  
"Though I'm not entirely sure if it will match my wardrobe." The conman added bitterly.  
"Would've looked a lot better if they were band-aids with Scooby Doo on them," Murdock admitted with a faint smile. His eyes were drooping a little. He was feeling drained, and his body ached all over.  
He tried to avoid Hannibal's and Face's scrutiny and looked around the place. He wondered why they were eyeing him like he was about to explode or something. He couldn't even recall how he got there in the first place. The last thing he could remember was the enclosing darkness when he fell in the... "No," Murdock shook his head when the memories bubbled up. "Not now," he thought.  
This movement didn't go unnoticed by his teammates.  
Murdock's eyes were drawn back to B.A again, who was dragging the still form of Dave unceremoniously into a cupboard under the stairs, away from the team.  
The captain's darkened eyes narrowed as he glared dangerously at the young man.  
"So, I guess we finally got him? " he said with a slight menace in his voice.  
"Actually, Captain... _You_ got him", Hannibal corrected him, searching his pockets for a cigar.  
Murdock shook his head and wearily put a hand on his forehead. "If you say so..", He said with a suddenly deflated voice. He couldn't remember that part as his head started to feel like cotton balls again.  
Face produced a fresh cigar from his pockets which Hannibal accepted gratefully. "Better not light it, though," Face remarked. "Since we're highly flammable right now… remember?" He added with an ironic tone of voice.  
"Right," Hannibal muttered disappointedly, "Damn turpentine."  
"I was wondering what that smell was," Murdock snuffled absentmindedly, still following B.A's moves.  
Hannibal glanced sideways at the captain while chewing his cigar. "Of course, intermittent memory loss...", he silently realized.  
When the guys were bound to chairs, and Dave was spraying them with turpentine, he'd seen Murdock waking up from the corner of his eyes. He wasn't sure if Dave had caused it by hitting the man, or if Murdock had somehow become aware of the situation. But he had a scare when he didn't recognize the look on Murdock's face. Dark and distant, but focused on Dave. Dave had been too busy with his victory speech to notice the man crouching up on him.  
Of course, Hannibal, Face, and B.A had seen it coming and were keen on keeping the young man distracted. However, Hannibal didn't anticipate Murdock's actions. It was as if the man had changed into a cold killing machine. This wasn't military; this was something entirely else. Of course, Hannibal knew vaguely about Murdock's CIA past and training, but Murdock never actually talked about it.

*BENG* Hannibal was roughly brought back to the world from his ponderings.  
B.A had angrily kicked the cupboard door shut before putting the lock on it.  
"Sucka's playing no tricks on us no more," B.A grunted while joining the team.  
The bulky man carefully glanced at Murdock who sat unusually quiet on the couch with the egg still on his lap. Murdock looked up at him with a shadow of a smile.  
B.A nodded back at him. The big man wasn't sure what to say. He hoped the fool was back in his usual state of mind, whatever that might be exactly. He didn't at all like the disconnection he'd witnessed only minutes ago.  
Looking at Hannibal, he asked: "Got a plan, Hannibal?".  
Hannibal smiled around his cigar. "Do I ever?" B.A merely frowned at him. The colonel took the cigar out of his mouth and looked at it.  
"I'd say it's about time to round up this lot of moldy cheese and deliver them to the police in a garbage bag, wrapped in pink ribbon."  
Hannibal looked up at the big man with a glint in his blue eyes. "Whaddaya say?"  
B.A grunted approvingly, Face just grimaced.  
"But first things first," Hannibal said, turning to Murdock. "Captain!" (Murdock jumped involuntarily), "You are going to take your meds and then you are grounded to this couch to get some rest."  
Murdock opened his mouth to protest and tell them that he wanted to help, but B.A interrupted him, showing a fist.  
"Shut up, fool! You gonna do as you're told!". Taken aback, the lanky man quickly closed his mouth again with a pout.  
Hannibal grinned and continued: "We're going to set up the place for our welcomings party tonight, and we need to tie up some loose ends"  
Hannibal rested a hand on Murdock's good shoulder and squeezed it gently while giving him a stern look.  
"And you need your rest, Captain. You've been through quite an ordeal tonight. You're wounded, and I can tell you're beyond exhausted. I promise you will be needed again first thing tomorrow, so I want you rested good. Understood?"  
Murdock, realizing that he had absolutely no say in this whatsoever, made a weak salute with his right arm. "Aye Aye, sir," he said softly, looking slightly defeated.  
"Good," Hannibal nodded, standing up from the couch.  
"Face, I want you to get back to the farmhouse to pick up our stuff. We are sleeping here tonight, and I think we'd all like to freshen up".  
"On my way," Face said while standing up, eager for a change of clothes (and a shower!). That damn boy ruined his new tailored suit!  
"What about me?", B.A said.  
Hannibal put an arm around B.A's shoulder. " We are going to 'decorate' the shed to welcome our guests tomorrow if you get my drift."  
B.A showed a rare smile. "Riiiiight" he sniggered knowingly.

* * *

It was night. B.A, Face and Hannibal had been arranging the last details in the shed, and now B.A was tinkering in his van.  
Murdock lay restlessly on the couch tossing and turning as much as his shoulder allowed him. Fatigue played tricks on his mind, letting him drift in and out of sleep, leaping from one bad dream into another. His legs were too long, the couch was too old, and his shoulder was burning uncontrollably. The colonel had offered him to use the only bed in the house instead. But Murdock insisted on staying in the living room. He would be able to keep an eye on the cupboard with Dave in it. Plus he felt a bit uncomfortable knowing that Sean occupied that bed only a few days before. The guys told him about Sean's death, and it had only made it harder for Murdock to control his thoughts and feelings, though he'd tried hard not to show it. He felt sorry for the man.  
Now he was lying awake again with Fred wrapped in his basket in his arms. He just had another nasty flashback, and frankly, he was too afraid to go back to sleep. Wiping the sweat from his face he looked around the silent dim lit room. The fear of loneliness started to creep over him again.  
"Are you awake Fred?" He asked.  
After a pause, he said: "Yeah, I can't sleep either".  
Slowly he raised himself from the couch, feeling as if the darkness of the room would eat him alive. For a moment he stood there shuddering, staring around cautiously while rubbing his shoulder. Standing up, he grabbed the dusty blankets from the couch and tossed them with one hand around his shoulders. He picked up Fred and walked to the cupboard to check if it was still locked. To his relief, it was still firmly sealed shut. Dave couldn't harm them anymore. There was no way out for him. Then the lean man turned around and made his way to the front door.

* * *

B.A was working in the back of the van behind a small desk. Usually, the expandable table with the mirror and lights was used by Hannibal when he was getting into one of his disguises, but it was also quite useful to B.A when he needed to work on his little projects 'on tour.' He was currently putting the last hand on the reparation of an old video camera. "Almost done." He mumbled while stifling a yawn. It had been a long day. Carefully, using a tweezer, he picked up one of the tiny screws from the table to close up a small panel of the camera.  
Hannibal needed the cam next day. The last time they'd used it, Face had accidentally dropped the camera while being attacked by some goon. Since then the camera hadn't been working as it should.  
Hannibal's plan involved getting as much evidence as possible to send to the police once they were done. One of the team would be filming the whole thing, probably the fool would. B.A was just about to pick up the second little screw with his tweezers when a knock on the van's door startled him and made him drop it on the floor. The screw immediately rolled under one of the seats.  
B.A cursed under his breath. Angrily he rammed open the door to find himself standing eye to eye with the ghostly appearance of Murdock. The big man blinked a few times at the lanky captain who was huddled in a blanket. One hand held his egg against his chest while his other hand was still hanging in the air after knocking. Murdock gulped.  
"Errr..., can I stay with you for a while, big guy?" he asked uncertainly while finally lowering his hand. Looking at B.A's fuming face, he realized his timing had been a tad bit off.  
The bejeweled man breathed out and calmed down.  
"As long as you keep your mouth shut. I'm working!", He said more grumpily than he meant. Murdock's cautious expression immediately changed into a very thankful one.  
"Zipping it", he said happily, climbing in and sinking down in his usual seat. B.A noticed how stiffly the man moved.  
"Hey B.A. There is a little screw here," The man immediately remarked, slowly bending down to pick it up.  
"Thanks", B.A said when he accepted it, noticing the painful grimace on Murdock's face.  
"You alright?", B.A asked while sitting down behind the desk.  
"Right as rain, big guy", Murdock sighed, leaning back heavily in his seat, tired of having to answer that question again. He was relieved when the bulky man simply grunted and went back to work.  
Murdock kept Fred on his lap, covering the egg with the blanket.  
B.A looked up. "Told ya not to bring the egg in my van, sucka."  
"But B.A, he was lonely!" Murdock sputtered, relieved that B.A wouldn't start mothering him, but just treated him like he always did. Like nothing had happened. The pilot really needed that right now.  
B.A was his anchor sometimes. His harshness often helped him snap back to reality when he was changing into some persona again. He kinda depended on B.A to tell him to stop. Even if he was driving the big guy nuts at times, they seem to have an understanding, and he finally felt safe in the van with the big man.  
B.A muttered something under his breath but didn't tell Murdock to remove the egg.  
Murdock slumped down a little while watching B.A tinker on the video camera. After what seemed like ages, he suddenly remembered something.  
"You still haven't guessed the blue thing I spied with my little eye, big guy" he managed to grin. "And that rhymed too."  
B.A looked up with a disturbed look on his face.  
"Told ya, I'm playin' no games!".  
Murdock just chuckled. "I gave you a hint already. You'll find it at the start".  
B.A grumbled but went back to work. A silence fell over the van again. When B.A was done testing the camera, he looked up to find Murdock deep asleep in his seat, leaning with his elbow on the armrest, his head heavily resting in his hand. The blanket had fallen off his shoulder, but the egg was now protectively hidden behind the hand in the sling.  
B.A silently stood up. Careful not to wake the sleeping man he re-arranged the blanket over his shoulder, glad nobody was watching.  
Looking up, he suddenly spotted something blue on the back of his driver's seat. A sticker?! That fool had dared to put a _sticker_ in his _van_?!  
Suddenly furious, he wanted to rip it from the chair, but then he read the text that said: "World's best driver."  
B.A paused in track. For a few seconds, he blinked sheepishly at the sticker and then frowned down at the sleeping pilot.  
Shaking his head, he walked back to his desk and sat down staring at his hands. He finally knew the answer to Murdock's annoying road game… the fool...

* * *

Face was walking through the forest with a flashlight. He was using the tracking radar that B.A had given him before he left. Hannibal's orders were to pick up the microphone from Patrick's body.  
"Why is it always me…", he had whined, not feeling too keen to look through the pockets of a corpse.  
Carefully the conman made his way through the thick roots. Face felt sick at the thought of what he would find. But it had to be done. They couldn't afford to leave any evidence of their stay here.  
And Patrick still had that microphone and tracking chip on him. It would have their fingerprints. Checking the tracking device in his hands, the conman knew he was getting very close. Face hoped he would find the man soon. It was pitch black in the forest, and he also had to make his way back to the car somehow. Good thing he brought his compass.  
His flashlight finally shone on a dark shape on the ground. A mix of relief and fear filled his mind. Relief that he had found the man, but fear to what state he would find him in. Of course, he'd seen his fair share of dead men during the war. But that didn't make it any easier.  
Crouching down, he saw the distorted face of the tattooed man and the bloodied hole in his jacket. Face shuddered. Patrick was dead all right. There was no doubt about it. Determined Face searched for the chip in the dead man's collar, feeling relieved to find it rather quickly. He pocketed the tiny device before producing a little plastic bag and tweezers from his own jacket pocket. The bag contained a hair from Dave. Carefully he used the tweezers to plant the hair on the dead man. This was a precaution, in case there wasn't enough evidence to nail Dave for his crimes. Though Face had noticed the scratches on Dave's face and guessed that the police would find tissue under Patrick's nails anyway. But you never could be too careful with these things.  
Face cleaned up after himself, trying to avoid stray footprints, and went back to Patty's car with a sick feeling in his stomach.  
Driving back to the guys, Face pondered about the recent events. Two men died under the hands of this young sadistic boy. One innocent, one not so much. And they could've lost both Hannibal and Murdock in the process…  
Face laughed scornfully at himself.  
Then to think that he'd expected this job to be 'a piece of cake.' Words that were mostly used by his commander Hannibal. But now…? Sheesh. The conman swore he would never use those damn words again. He was pretty sure by now that they were cursed somehow.

* * *

Hannibal stretched his aching back. He rubbed his still sore ribs and bruised arm before lighting a cigar. Sticking it in the corner of his mouth, he checked the shed one more time. All things were in place to make this into a happy ending. It only needed one more thing, or rather..a person, but that was something they would 'add' only last minute. It had been the first time in ages since he'd had to do most preparations by himself.  
He'd had some help from B.A and Face, but at some point had to send out Face to fetch the microphone, and B.A needed time to repair the camera. And of course, the captain was done for the count tonight, which meant that Hannibal had to work alone on the technical part of his plan. But now it was all set and done, and it was time to catch some well-needed rest. They would have to get up early for some last minute preparations. That sleazeball Mitchell wouldn't be too happy about it. Nor Dave for that matter.

Dave…. that kid had surprised the colonel unexpectedly. The younger man didn't seem to have any form of regret or genuine kindness to him. He was smart though. Smart enough to be able to keep up a facade all his life. Though all the time there had been a monster hidden inside of him. He had been living under Joe and Patty's roof for all these years, and they'd even considered him as a son. How was that possible? Hannibal shook his head. He just couldn't understand it. The man must be a psychopath or something entirely else. Hannibal wished that he'd listened to Murdock and had trusted the pilot's instincts better. The crazy man must've picked up something about Dave that he didn't like from the first moment they met...  
But then again, sometimes it was hard to keep the captain's crazy antics apart from his common sense.  
A sound brought Hannibal back from his ponderings. Alarmed, he turned around and automatically reached for his gun. Face entered the shed with his hands held upward.  
"It's just me Hannibal, just me." came the calm voice of Face.  
Clearly relaxing, Hannibal removed his hand from his weapon.  
"Is it done?" Hannibal asked, puffing a cloud of smoke from his cigar. But he could already tell from the look on the kid's face that it was.  
"I'm sorry you had to do that," he added, putting a hand on his lieutenant's shoulder.  
Face sighed. "Yeah, well, someone had to," he said, rubbing his eyes warily. "How's it going here?"  
"All done," Hannibal said contently. "We need to arrange a few things tomorrow morning, but for now it's time to hit the sack."  
"Finally!", Face moaned, turning to the house together with Hannibal who closed the shed behind him.

"Where's Murdock," Face said alarmed when entering the house. Hannibal quickly checked the cupboard, but it was still closed.  
"His egg is gone too. Maybe he is just out for a walk. Let's check on B.A first", Hannibal said with worry hidden in his voice.  
Face was there first. Knocking on the door of the van, it carefully slid open. B.A promptly appeared with a finger to his lips, telling them to keep their voices down.  
"The Fool 's here, finally sleepin'...", he whispered.  
Face peeked around the sergeant's bulky form to see the sleeping Murdock slumped in his usual seat. The man was still looking pale, but his expression was calm and peaceful now compared to how he looked a little earlier. Face smiled in relief  
"I'm glad he's here.., you keep him company B.A", Hannibal whispered, smiling at the big man. "We're done for the night. Sleep well sergeant".  
"Sleep well colonel…Face" B.A nodded to both men before quietly sliding the van door shut.  
Both men, feeling reassured their captain and their sergeant were okay, finally went into the house to catch up on some much-needed sleep.  
B.A. Grabbed a blanket and settled himself on the floor of the van. It wouldn't be as comfortable, but he'd had worse.  
He would stay with the fool tonight. He wouldn't leave his friend alone again.

* * *

It was early in the morning when a yell roused the Colonel and lieutenant from a deep sleep.  
"Hannibal!"  
It was B.A's voice. Immediately alerted, Hannibal jumped up from the couch he had been vacating that night. He had his gun ready, and his heart pounded rapidly.  
"What's wrong?" muttered a disheveled Face while jumping to his feet a little bit slower than his colonel. "Where's the fire?"  
The front door slammed open, and B.A rushed through the entrance with an ecstatic Murdock hobbling behind him on his heels, carrying a yellow blanket with something dark in it in one hand.  
"Hannibal! Tell that fool to keep that thing out of ma face!" B.A said with clear anger in his voice, walking circles through the living room with Murdock in hot pursuit.  
Hannibal breathed out low and deep. Dropping his gun he rubbed his eyes exhaustedly before looking up at the bickering men. He needed a second to process the scene in front of him.  
Face peered suspiciously at Murdock. What was he holding there?  
His question was quickly answered by a babbling Murdock.  
"But B.A, it's our little Fred! You know him!" Murdock said in astonishment. "Don't you remember? First, he was oval and white and looked like an egg. And now he has transformed into a new being. But you can't judge him for that. Deep within he's still the same, ya know. You're hurting poor Fred's' feelings! AND you were the first person he saw, big guy. You're his daddy now! You've got responsibilities man! Aren't your daddy senses tingling?"  
A funny squeaky sound came from the little hairy bird in Murdock's hand. Its new down still looked dark and wet.  
"Leave me alone or I'll break you' legs", B.A said, hiding behind the colonel. A mix of anger and fear could be read from his face.  
Hannibal chuckled. "Well whaddya know." He turned around and grabbed the bulky black man with two hands firmly by his shoulders. "Congratulations to the both of you, Mum and Dad!".  
Murdock looked proud and beamed at the colonel, but B.A's expressions turned rather sour.  
"Uhhhnnn… too early for this.." Face groaned, falling backward on his makeshift bed on the floor and pulling the blanket over his face.  
This promised to become an eventful day...and he was not at all looking forward to it.

* * * * * *  
I realize that goslings usually don't hatch that quickly (takes them 24 to 48 hours). And the egg should probably have been in an incubator to keep him real warm. But hey, it's fan fic. Miracles sometimes do happen here ;) And apparently Murdock has great body heat, hehe.


	20. Chapter 20 - BAD GUYS, THIS WAY

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hey there. It took me a while to finish this chapter, but hurray, here it is. One more to go to finish the story. I hope you've enjoyed it. Thanks so much for the reviews. I have been happily reading them.

* * *

Chapter 20: _BAD GUYS, THIS WAY_

Mitchell silently watched the clock-hands moving forward at an agonizingly slow pace while puffing on his cigar.  
Blowing out a large cloud of smoke he was mentally preparing himself for the confrontation with the commandos.  
The group of mercenaries told him to bring money, but he wasn't going to do that. He would not be threatened and told what to do like a little child.  
Mitchell's hand balled into a fist as he remembered the fresh humiliation and degree of destruction it accompanied.  
Gradually the older man lowered his hand to put out the stump of his cigar in the ashtray. It was time these men would get what they deserved...  
From behind his desk, he eyed the four men he'd hired himself. They were standing in his office, calmly waiting for his instructions.  
All four of them were thugs; big, bulky, and armed.

"More muscle than brain," Mitchell thought.

Perfect for what he'd had in mind. These men were trained to do as he told them to, no questions asked. They were going to make sure that Mitchell could finally lay his hands on his painting.  
The only thing that bothered him was the fact that Dave nor Patrick had returned the other day.  
He wasn't sure if he could trust either of them anymore unless something had happened to them. Maybe that commando team had laid their hands on both men? If so, he'll find out soon enough.  
Sighing, Mitchell stood up from his desk and nodded at the men.  
The foursome immediately stirred and flanked him on his way out of the building.

* * *

Face was checking his watch for the third time in 5 minutes. She could be here any second now.  
The handsome conman was hiding in an alley adjacent to Mitchell's antique store, waiting for his _date_ to arrive.  
The alley was filled with random abandoned and broken furniture that belonged to the shop. Hidden behind a big flower patterned arm chair, he'd seen Mitchell leave only a few minutes earlier, accompanied by four big gorillas while closing the store behind him.  
This was information he immediately communicated with Hannibal who told him he had set up a little surprise party for the men.  
Now the conman was waiting until he could play out his own part of the plan.  
He hoped she would hurry up though. Timing was of the essence.

Having nothing better to do, Face quickly checked his reflection in the mirror of a crooked dressing table while combing a hand through his hair.  
He looked as suave as always, and thank heavens his split lip was not so noticeable anymore. He had a few bruises and a bump on the back of his head, but that was stuff he could hide easily under clothing and hair. He'd removed the bandages from his fingers as the cuts had closed overnight.  
As for clothes, he'd put on his tailor-made coat and the very last of his clean shirts.

"I'm glad I packed one extra," Face mumbled while straightening his black silk tie.

He didn't fancy borrowing one of Murdock's quoted t-shirts again.  
It happened one time, and Murdock had given Face a dark red t-shirt saying _There is a creep in your future_. It just didn't work in his favor and girls suddenly seemed to be keen on avoiding him. Face frowned at the memory.  
Anyway... right now he was reasonably presentable considering the circumstances. And it was a good thing too because he really needed to play the part today.  
Face was feeling a bit nervous about Hannibal's plan. They had to _time_ everything perfectly, or the team would get in trouble themselves.  
The conman sighed. Yep, the man was on the jazz again.

The tapping sound of shoes on pavement drew Face's attention and made him sigh in relief.  
Kate walked around the corner of the street and beamed at him when she saw the handsome man waiting for her.  
She was dressed in a pair of skinny jeans with high boots and a white blouse that complimented her figure. Her dark brown hair tied in a hip ponytail gave her a bit of a sporty appearance.  
Face swallowed while he approvingly observed her pretty frame. Checking her out from head to toe he had to admit that she looked mighty fine.  
She smiled while doing the exact same thing to him and blushed slightly. Face smiled to himself as he recognized the look in her eyes. She obviously liked what she saw too.

"Are you ready?" Face said with his most charming smile.

"Ready as you are" Kate answered, producing a key from her handbag and walking to the store's back door in the alley.

Face followed her closely.  
He didn't really need a key to get into the place, but she didn't need to know that for now. All she knew was that they were going to look through Mitchell's administration in search for documents that would put the old man in a bad spotlight. That shouldn't be too difficult.  
Face figured that her help would definitely speed up things.  
When Face enlightened Kate about the situation, she didn't seem too surprised.  
Mitchell had fired her on the spot the other day because she failed to call the police when the team barged in. He sent her home without her payroll.  
When Face called her, she was eager to help. Embracing Face's story, she agreed to help him, longing for a bit of adventure together with the attractive conman. Not to mention taking revenge on her former boss. And unfortunately for the old man, he had forgotten to claim his keys back.

"Are you okay doing this?" Face asked Kate with a soft voice when he noticed her hands were trembling slightly while opening the door.

"Positive", she said, reassuring him with a smile.

They walked in, and Kate pointed them to the filing cabinets.

"Besides being the shopkeeper, I also filed all the new antiques Mr. Mitchell brought in", Kate told Face opening one of the drawers and flipping with her index finger over the name labels.

She stopped when she found what she was looking for and pulled out a file. Opening the folder on a table, she added: "That Tiffany lamp that you collected together with your… eh brother-who-wasn't-really-your-brother?" (Face smirked at her choice of words) "Was one of the new objects of which the background information seemed incomplete."

Kate showed Face the documents while continuing her explanation.  
The conman smiled to himself. He thought that Kate would've needed some coaxing, but all in all, this went much easier than he thought.

Kate continued: "Usually when I file new antiques, I also receive details of the object's origin. For example: whom it was purchased from, or even when it was found on a dump or donated to the store. We also file the receipts for bookkeeping. But with the Tiffany lamp, which I know was a very rare type, I had no information at all. And that wasn't the only object that came in without any background information."

That's because these were stolen from Joe's Antique store." Face said grimly.

"This is very interesting, but I'm also looking for something else. We need to go back to earlier transactions that can be linked to the big auction a little while back and possibly before that time. Your ex-boss was interested in a certain chair".

Producing a little notebook from his coat pocket he went through the pages adding: "A 19th Century Throne-Style English Chair to be precise. It had a red upholstered seat".

"I think I know where to look", Kate said confidently turning to the archive again.

Face nodded and flashed her a sincere and thankful smile that made her cheeks turn slightly pink.

* * *

It was noon, and a car drove into the yard, parking right in front of the house.  
Mitchell and the four men stepped out.  
The old man stretched his legs and looked around, surveying the grounds carefully. No one was there.  
A cool breeze brushed gently through the trees, and the sounds of birds and insects were gently chirping and buzzing through the air.  
But no sign of the commandos.  
Mitchell didn't feel too comfortable about that.  
Then his eyes fell on a sign board that was attached to the porch of the house.  
Someone obviously had a great time creating it. It was hand drawn in crayons with big colorful letters saying _BAD GUYS GO TO THE SHED_. There was a big arrow pointing in the right direction and a somewhat clumsy drawing of a crook (complete with masks, stubble and black-and-white striped prison uniform).

Angered by the sign, Mitchell was wondering what kind of situation he was going to step into next.  
Where these guys even serious?  
Motioning his men to follow him, he started to walk.  
According to the arrow they had to go left first, which they did, guns in their hands, cautiously glancing from left to right. But still, the A-team wasn't in sight.

Soon they encountered more signs saying _THIS WAY!_ , _ALMOST THERE_ and _YOU'RE DOING GREAT!_  
Each new sign enraged the older man even more than the previous one. His head was turning red, and his eyes narrowed to slits. Who were these men to treat him like a child?!  
When the men walked into the sign attached to the back of the water well, saying _NOT THIS WAY (PLEASE TURN AROUND AT YOUR CONVENIENCE)_ , Mitchell swore loudly and kicked the sign away in frustration. Turning around on his heels, he found a smaller sign saying, _THAT WAS RUDE! NOW WASH YOUR MOUTH!_ and a final sign and arrow pointing at the shed hidden behind the trees saying YOU'VE REACHED YOUR FINAL DESTINATION. The word _final_ was underlined firmly.  
The old man realized that they'd been fooled into walking a circle around the house, only to find out that they could've taken the other way around to find the building instantly. What a waste of time and frustration.  
Mitchell's nerves were almost literally at a boiling point by now.  
Forgetting about all his precautions, he barged into the building before his four hired thugs had a chance to keep up with him.  
And that was a mistake.

The moment the older man walked through the door opening he landed in a small cage made of welded old metal fences. A heavy metal barricade fell down like a portcullis locking the man inside.  
Mitchell yelled and immediately turned around, grabbing the metal pointy-edged bars to see his bodyguards being cornered and beaten up by two of the four commandos. The two A-team members had attacked the four men from their hiding places and disarmed them with a quick movement.  
But the goons were fighting back, and the group had ended up in a fiery fist fight.  
Even though outnumbered, the odds for Hannibal and B.A looked rather good at first, but the cards quickly turned when Hannibal was hit from behind after successfully flooring one of the goons.  
The tallest of them all managed to hit the colonel with a forceful blow to the ribs.  
Hannibal sucked in air and through a blurred vision he saw the man coming at him again.  
Gritting his teeth the colonel anticipated the move, and even though the blow hurt like hell on his already sore ribs, he'd maneuvered away fast enough to minimize the damage. In a quick motion, he ducked, grabbed his weapon and hit the chap on the temple with the butt of his gun.  
The man immediately went down while Hannibal turned around to park his fist between the teeth of the first gorilla who had just come around and dared to launch at him again.  
B.A had been rather busy fighting the other two more muscular men himself.  
They kept on coming, and B.A had been punching at them without a pause. But like him they were tough and big and even B.A could go on for so long.  
It was about time to finish them off, and fortunately, a new opportunity offered itself.  
When the men tried to run into him at the same time, B.A grinned, grabbed them by their collars and knocked their heads together with incredible force.  
The two men slowly slumped down on the ground on top of each other.  
Hannibal was still fighting the other bodyguard. When he couldn't dodge a kick to the head, he staggered a second too long to receive another blow to the ribs. Hannibal groaned and fell on his knees while bending double as he felt something crack.  
Just when the man was about to strike again, B.A grabbed him by his coat, gave him a forceful head bump and threw him through the air like a rag doll.  
The man landed in a heap on top of the other two unconscious species.

"Thanks sergeant" Hannibal wheezed while holding his hand protectively against his ribs.

B.A offered him a hand to get back to his feet. "You okay?", he asked in concern.

"I'll live", Hannibal said, straining his face into a smile.

While Hannibal caught his breath, B.A quickly tied up and chained the four unconscious and rather unfortunate thugs.  
Placed with their backs together, they looked like a miserable lot with their heads drooping onto their chests.  
Hannibal composed himself, and when he turned around to face Mitchell, no sign of pain could be read from his face.

The captured old man had been staring helplessly at his, once again, incompetent bodyguards from behind his cage bars.  
His spirits dropped when he saw the commandos overpower his men with ease when a suddenly muffled sound behind him made him jump.  
In the rush of the moment, the old man hadn't paid any attention to his surroundings.  
He turned around, his back pressed against the iron wall that kept him locked in.  
Outside his confinement, the small wooden building seemed to be piled up to the roof with tools and all kinds of old furniture.  
The dim light of the shed fell on wardrobes, tables, chairs and all types of rusty and worn out utensils.  
The cage itself was made of a variety of old metal garden fences, neatly welded together to form a wall on all sides.  
Inside the cage, against one of the metal walls, stood a big old wardrobe with mirrored doors. And to Mitchell's shock, he hadn't been alone.  
In the middle of the cage was a man sitting bound, gagged and blindfolded in an antique chair.  
THE antique chair.  
The one Mitchell had been hunting after all that time.

Squinting hard, Mitchell had a better look at the boy and recognized Dave.  
Taped to the young man's chest was a big envelope saying _READ ME FIRST_ and a drawing of a smiling doggy.  
More signs in crayon! Who were these guys!?  
The older man approached the boy suspiciously and took the envelope as if it could explode any second.  
He felt Hannibal's gazing stare burning in his back and turned to face him.

"Better read it first Mitchell," Hannibal said with a serious tone of voice, slowly aiming his rifle at the man.

"And read it out loud. Dave might be interested in listening in as well".

Hannibal grinned before puffing on his cigar. Mitchell slowly opened the envelope and read.

 _Dear Mr. Mitchell  
_ _We regret to inform you that your henchman, Dave, has been a rather_ insubordinate _kid. He has been behaving badly this week and killed two men (that we know of) during the process._

 _His victims are Sean Hernandez, a former resident of this house, and Patrick Pacini, your other henchman (the tattoo guy).  
Dave had a second agenda and went a little rogue on you. He was planning to steal the van Gogh painting (yes we know of its existence) right under your nose and keep it to himself. Now ain't that something?_

 _So...Tell us. How does it feel to be double crossed?  
We hope that this letter will act as a warning in advance to avoid complications in the future._

 _With much love (xxx)_

 _the A-team._

Mitchells' eyebrows rose, and his nostrils flared in hardly concealed temper.  
Enraged, he crumpled the letter to a ball, and threw it to the ground with force.  
Then he leaped to Dave and harshly removed the blindfold and gag from the boy's head. The younger man shook his head and blinked when the suddenly harsh light hit his eyes.

"You were trying to steal from me, boy?!" Mitchell shouted while grabbing Dave's hair and pulling his head backward awkwardly.

Dave, looking slightly pale and sweaty and made a gagging sound.

"Now now, be gentle," Hannibal said half-heartedly, taking a cigar from his lips and looking at it with faked interest.

"You don't want to add _manhandling_ to your criminal record now, do you?"

B.A who was standing next to the colonel, keeping guard over the four bound goons, sniggered softly.

"Why!?" Mitchell shouted, releasing his grip on Dave. "I didn't order you to kill these men. I didn't order you to kill Patrick. Killing leaves traces you dumb ignorant boy. You were only to cause dismay at Joe's store. I did not order you to murder."

"Should've paid me more, pops," Dave said hoarsely. "I don't care what you want. I know what 'I' want".

He looked the man daringly in the eyes.  
The older man fumed.

"Where is my painting!" He shouted while shaking the boy viciously. "Where is it!"

"I don't know. I don't have it anymore!", Dave panted.

Mitchell's eyes bulged as he considered this for a second. Then his eyes feverishly fell upon the chair.

"It's still in the chair, is it? IS IT?!"

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Dave by his collar and pulled him forcibly out of the old throne.  
The bound young man landed face forward on the stone floor, causing him a bloody nose. Trying to lift himself on his elbows while blood dripped on his shirt, he scuttling away from the madman who had already begun searching the chair.  
The old man knew exactly where to look and curled his bony fingers around the seat cover.  
Just as the man was about to reveal the throne's hidden treasure, a series of squeaky sounds (followed by a soft "shhh" sound) could be heard close by.  
But Mitchell didn't hear it, being too focused on his current task.  
Dave, however, moved his head slightly into the direction he thought the sound was coming from. The only thing inside the cage was the old dusty wardrobe, and he eyed it suspiciously.  
But then Mitchell uttered a cry of almost desperate excitement, and Dave's head snapped back to pay attention to the man.  
Mitchell's eyes had a weird glint of euphoria when he finally lifted the package from the hidden compartment of the chair.  
With trembling hands, he started to remove the cotton rags that were covering the canvas.  
Meanwhile, Hannibal calmly surveyed him with folded arms and a neutral expression on his face.  
He was simply letting the scene play itself out.  
As Mitchell revealed the canvas, he turned it around to look at it properly.  
A silence fell in the shed.  
The old man's face suddenly turned gray and his mad grin faded into a snarl.

"You…." the old man hissed under his breath turning to Dave once more. "You IDIOT!".

Dave, who sat against the fence-wall of the cage looked slightly disturbed. Mitchell snapped at Dave, waving frantically with the canvas.

"This is the wrong painting! What have you done with it! _Where is my Van Gogh!_ ".

Dropping the canvas, he dove into the boy's direction grabbing him by the collar again and smashing his head into the fence.

"All this work for nothing. All these months of preparations to get the painting in my possession. And you mess it all up, boy. You will pay for this!".

Dave who was seeing stars by now slumped into the metal framework, unable to protect himself.

"Tut tut", Hannibal said calmly from the other side of the bar.

"It doesn't look like you are going anywhere right now Mr. Mitchell. And like I said earlier; Be careful with Dave. I don't think you want to add manhandling to your already building record".

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!", Mitchell yelled almost hysterically, starting to feel very unsettled about the whole situation.

"Where is my Van Gogh? I will pay you good money. Just like we agreed. I'll pay anything you want. I will pay for the damage of Joe's warehouse too, and you'll give me the painting. Just let me out, and I will collect it at my office immediately".

"Oh that won't be necessary," a cheerfully mocking voice said from outside the shed. Face walked in with a smug smile on his face.

"Did you get what we needed, Face?" Hannibal asked eagerly with a bright glance in his eyes.

"Yes, I did." Face smiled. "And I also found this,"

The conman removed an envelope from his inside pocket, revealing a large sum of money.

"I happened to stumble upon a safe in your office Mr. Mitchell. And assuming you wouldn't be bothered to bring the requested amount with you today, I took the opportunity to collect it myself."

Looking at Mitchells slightly slack-jawed face, he added, "Don't worry. I left you some change. We're honest people after all".

Face put the envelope back in his jacket with a smile.

"Oh! And before I forget", he added mischievously, "I also found some interesting papers that show us the transactions and communication between you and the smugglers of that painting. A sunflowers by Van Gogh I believe?"

Mitchell snarled angrily at the handsome conman who faked a polite smile.

"Did I mention that the police is currently nosing around your store with a search warrant? They're looking for a stolen Van Gogh and compelling incriminating leads that would spread some light on the case."

Winking at Hannibal, Face added with a smug grin. "I understand they received an anonymous tip about the matter."

Hannibal cocked his head and returned the smile.

"Well, Whaddayaknow," he said thickly with his cigar in the corner of his mouth."I wonder who it was..".

Mitchell's laughed scornfully. "They won't find it in my store, you idiots. I don't have it."

"Oh, but there you're wrong, mister." Hannibal said. "I think we forgot to mention that we _planted_ that painting during our last visit."

Taking a puff from his cigar he added: "So I'm pretty positive the police will find it there. You had it right under your nose all that time. Must be a little frustrating to be you."

There was a short piercing silence in which both older men eyed each other with similar disgust.  
But it was quickly interrupted by a loud squeaky sound, followed by another _'ssshh be quiet_ '  
This time both Dave and Mitchell turned their heads to look at the big wardrobe with the mirrored doors.  
It was standing at the far edge of their fenced cage.

"Murdock", Hannibal sighed. "Didn't I tell you to leave Fred in the van?"

The big door of the wardrobe creaked loudly when it was pushed open by a long leg.  
A lanky man with baseball cap and leather jacket was sitting half crouched with a video camera in front of his face, filming the whole scene.

"Uhhhmmm, this isn't what it looks like", he said rather awkwardly to the two men in the cage.  
Looking caught in the act, the pilot lowered the camera with a sheepish grin on his face.

Not receiving any immediate response, he quickly admitted, "Okay okay! it _IS_ what it looks like".

A little yellow head with an orange beak popped up behind the zipper of his coat and squeaked loudly.

"I trust the camera worked well?" Hannibal asked with a cheerful conversational tone in his voice.

"Yep, taped it all loud 'n clear, Colonel", Murdock said, apparently unnerved by the fact that he was sitting inside the cage with the other two (still staring) villains.

He looked at B.A while patting the video camera, adding: "Great idea to use that one-way mirror glass, big guy! Worked like a charm"

B.A nodded at him with a little proud smile on his lips.  
Looking from Hannibal to Murdock, Mitchell's lips started curling into a wicked smile.  
The man with the baseball cap was _inside_ the cage. HIS cage.  
He handled quickly.  
Bending his knees, he retrieved a small pistol from his right cowboy boot.  
He had been hiding it there all this time in case he needed it. This was his chance to get out!  
Maybe he could still do some damage control.

Aiming the pistol at the captain, he snarled with a wicked glare in his eyes, "You made a big mistake boy. Sitting here in a lion's den, right between the lions".

Facing Hannibal while keeping the pistol aimed at Murdock he hissed: "Let me out, or your _boy_ gets it!".

Still sitting on his haunches, Murdock cocked his head with a lopsided smile, dropped the video camera on his lap and with his right arm obtained a green egg-shaped object from the dark corner of the wardrobe.  
He pulled out the safety pin with his teeth and spat it at Mitchell's feet.

"Ain't it sweet. I got you somethin' special too," He said with a giggle, showing the men the grenade while firmly keeping the safety clip pressed in his hand.

"It's amazeballs. I discovered lots more of these in this shack. They were all sitting in a box that was marked WWII."

Murdock clumsily grabbed the camera with his stiff left arm, stood up and stepped out of the wardrobe like stepping out of a train. He kept his right arm stretched out towards the old man who was by now sweating peanuts.

"You want it? It's yours if you like." Murdock smiled with a slightly crazed look in his eyes, "But don't blow any extra holes in me. It might just startle me enough to drop it, and then we will all go BOOM".

He voiced a great imitation of exploding bomb sounds for extra effect.  
Mitchell backed away at these words, throwing the pistol on the ground and holding his hands defeated in the air.  
Murdock carefully pushed Fred, who was still lurking above his zipper, back inside the coat.

Then, without a warning, he cried, "BOMBS AWAY!" and threw the grenade towards Mitchell, who hurried after the explosive to throw it out of the cage.

Murdock dove to the ground, swiftly picking up the small weapon and ran towards the exit where B.A already lifted the heavy portcullis for him.

"Get out of there, sucka!", he barked.

"Comin'", Murdock chirped with a melodic voice, hopping over the still bound Dave who was now screaming frantically and trying to squirm his way out as well. B.A immediately closed the gate behind the lanky pilot, and everybody backed away.  
Mitchell yelled when he couldn't reach the grenade and dived into the corner of the cage covering his head, waiting for the blow to come.

But nothing happened.

Slowly and bewildered Mitchell lifted his head from under his hands.  
A quiet laugh came from outside the cage.

"I think Murdock forgot to tell you that these grenades were dummies... empty shells". Hannibal grinned with his cigar bobbing happily in the corner of his mouth again.

"Hmm... At least I _think_ they were!", Murdock said, holding a finger against his lips and looking rather pensively.

All men, including his team members, looked at him in alarm.

"Murdock you fool!", B.A cried, taking a few extra steps backward.

But fortunately, still nothing exploded.  
Face rolled his eyes at Murdock who, alas for the conman, missed the gesture while being quite occupied by the energetic gosling in his jacket.

"You….You're all raving lunatics!" Mitchell yelled with acid in his voice.

He shakily clambered back to his feet and grabbed the metal barricade with two hands.

Murdock took a step closer with Fred peeking over his zipper again.

"On the contrary, my dear sir." Murdock said in his best British accent, "I'm the only raving lunatic in here!

"He, however", the lanky pilot pointed his thumb over his shoulder at Hannibal, "Is just a brilliant virtuoso on the jazz."

"Gee, thanks, Murdock," Hannibal grinned, putting out his cigar on the ground and checking his watch.

"Well, I hate to spoil the fun, but I think it's about time to round it all up. Are we ready guys?"

"Sure am. And I've got a hot date tonight", Face said flashing his pearly whites and looking overjoyed.  
B.A gave him a look that meant "Oh boy," then shook his head.

While Hannibal kept Mitchell under gunpoint, they lifted the four (still fuzzy) thugs from the ground and threw them into the cage to accompany Mitchell and Dave. Murdock was sitting on his knees, drawing a new sign while babbling animatedly with Fred.

"Hey you can't leave us here!", Dave shouted when Murdock attached the freshly drawn signpost to the door that said WE ARE BAD GUYS. PLEASE ARREST US!, complemented with another smiley and a rather unnecessary arrow.

"Oh yes, kid. We sure can". Hannibal said calmly, adressing the younger man while sirens could be heard in the distance.

"The police is coming to investigate, and they will find a murdered man in the well. And amongst other things, they will find your murder weapon, fingerprints and they will find Patrick too. Lucky for you, you don't have to wait long for it."

Hannibal turned his head and smiled kindly at the young man. "That's service with a smile", he added teasingly.

Dave looked pale, and Mitchell slumped down to the ground, the last of his belligerent front collapsing.

B.A shouted, "Hannibal, we need to go, man!"

Finally feeling the pressure to hurry, the Colonel spun on his heels, quickly gesturing Murdock to follow him.  
Murdock gave Dave one more long lasting piercing look before rushing to the van as well, the camera held tightly under his good arm.

With skidding wheels, the A-team finally drove off _just_ before the police arrived.


	21. Chapter 21 - The end

* * * NOTE * * *

Hey again. Wow, this is it. The final chapter. I can't believe that I actually finished my story.I feel that this chapter was not entirely necessary since the last one could work as an ending as well. But I somehow felt the need to write this little extra bit, just to dot the i's and cross the t's, the way it would be in the real series as well.

Thanks VERY MUCH for reading my silly story and baring with my multiple cliffhanger (teehee). It's the first time I wrote something like this and it was fun. Who knows. I might write more in the future.  
Anyway, enough of my rambling. ttfn!

* * *

Chapter 21 - The end.

Hannibal sat on a shabby bed in a cheap motel room while B.A was busying himself taping his ribs.  
Amused, he watched a soaking wet Murdock hurrying out of the bathroom with a toweled Fred in his hands. The crazy man was currently telling off the little gosling for splashing water all over him during swimming hours in the bathroom sink. Grumbling slightly, Murdock carefully lowered the squeaking baby goose into a cardboard box and grabbed a towel to dry his clothes and hair.  
Even though watching the pilot had been a great distraction from his pain, Hannibal couldn't prevent himself from wincing as B.A applied the bandages a bit too tight.  
The black man frowned at the dark blue bruises and swelling around the colonel's abdomen.

"Ain't lookin' too good, Hannibal." he said grumpily, "You oughta get a check-up.. and you gonna need some ice for the swelling."

Wheezing slightly, the colonel merely shrugged.

"I'll be fine," he muttered as he winced again.

He'd kept his cool during the day, but the Jazz had finally left him, along with his bravado.  
Nevertheless, he couldn't help but feel rather optimistic about rounding up the bad guys.  
The look on Mitchell's face had been ... well...priceless.  
Murdock, who was now sitting cross-legged on the floor while feeding Fred the Gosling some crumbs (bought at a local farm & pet shop), looked up at his pale commander.

"You oughta see Maggie, boss," He said with an earnest look on his face, "Just in case, ya know."

Putting the bag of crumbs aside, Murdock stood up stiffly holding his left arm over his chest, to sit down on the bed next to Hannibal.  
Dr. Sullivan (Maggie for friends) was the good and rather attractive doctor of the town called Bad Rock.  
She'd occasionally help out the team whenever one of them had been badly injured.  
Knowing that Hannibal and Maggie were sweet on each other, the pilot wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I bet she'll be all too happy to give you a _very_ _thorough_ examination, colonel."

"Hah...Hah…" Hannibal said flatly, though he couldn't suppress the smirk appearing on his face, nor the slightly flushing cheeks.

"Wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more," Murdock teased while accidentally nudging Hannibal in the ribs with his elbow. The colonel gasped involuntarily.

"Out of my way, fool!" B.A snapped while chasing the pilot off the bed again.

"So sowwy Col'nel," Murdock said apologetically as he quickly jumped back to the ground to avoid B.A's foul temper.

When B.A finished up binding the colonel's ribs, he helped him putting back his shirt on.  
Hannibal buttoned it slowly while deep in thought. He was considering their options. Visiting Maggie wasn't such a bad idea at all. Bad Rock was on their route after all.  
And eyeing his captain (who was now trying to teach the gosling to play fetch with a small stick) it wouldn't hurt to have him examined as well.  
The shoulder was still quite swollen and clearly causing Murdock some pain, yet the fidgety pilot just couldn't be told to sit still and get some rest. B.A had already been yelling at him several times to lie down. But to his utter frustration, his warnings had fallen onto deaf ears. The lanky man kept finding new reasons to jump around while mothering Fred, exactly the way he was doing right now.  
B.A huffed irritably while putting away the bandages in their first aid box. Even though he'd kept up his tough act, Hannibal couldn't help but notice the concern in his sergeant's eyes. The mission had been unexpectedly hard on all of them, but B.A's discovery at the well had left an impact. Knowing the man for so many years now, Hannibal could tell. But it clearly wasn't the only thing that bothered the sergeant.

"Cheer up, sergeant," Hannibal said, guessing what bothered the big man. "All in all, we didn't do too bad."

B.A shrugged.

"Tell that to Joe and Patty," he muttered remembering the devastation on the faces of the older couple when they learned about Sean's death and Dave's betrayal that afternoon.

"We did the job alright, but we couldn't prevent more people from gettin' hurt."

Hannibal had to agree with B.A. The couple's trust had been damaged real bad, and their son was still in a coma in the hospital. Though fortunately; the doctors said that Mike had shown some signs of waking up. That was at least a silver lining.  
And once again, despite all the trouble they'd encountered, the team had gotten the job done. They'd solved the mystery and caught the bad guys before more bad things had happened.  
Hannibal sighed inaudibly while finishing the last button of his shirt. He would be more than happy to get out of this town asap and grand his men a well-earned break before starting a new mission. At least they got paid well this time.

A small knock on the door broke Hannibal out of his reveries. All three men looked alarmed as Face rushed into the room.  
The conman hastily turned around to see if nobody followed him before closing the door.  
Carrying a mixture of worry and annoyance on his face, he turned to his commander.

"You're back early, Face. Something happened on your date?" Hannibal asked while examining the clear agitation of his lieutenant.  
The handsome man didn't look pleased at all as Hannibal promptly stood up from the bed.

"Well, yes and no," Face replied with an irked voice.

"Spill it, lieutenant," Hannibal frowned.

"Good news first please," Murdock added in a timid voice from his spot on the floor.

"Well...," Face nervously combed a hand through his hair. "The good news is that the bad guys were all arrested this afternoon. I sent in the videotape and made a few phone calls pretending to be the head chief of police and got all the spicy details." Face smiled a little, remembering the fun conversations he had.

"The thugs are being charged with murder, conspiracy, and smuggling of the stolen van Gogh, amongst other things. And I expect they will be in prison for a lifetime" Face went on.

"HA! Don't you just love it when a plan comes together?" Hannibal said with a sudden Cheshire cat grin on his face.

"And the bad news?" B.A grunted, ignoring Hannibal's gleaming smile.

"The bad news is that I had to cut my date with the lovely Kate short because we ran into some MP's down town." Face sighed grumpily.

This alerted the other three men in the room.

"Don't worry." Face added in a hurry, "I managed to get out of their way in time and I am positive they didn't see me but I don't think it's a coincidence that they're here. They must've picked up on our trail again, and I wouldn't be surprised if they were combing the area right now:".

"Okay, then it's time to move", Hannibal said instantly.

Murdock's eyes lit up and a grin spread across his face as he swiftly picked up the box with Fred in it.

"Hold on to your socks, Fred! That's our cue to hit the road", he said animatedly. "Oh my, your very first road trip! I bet you'll love it!"

"That goose ain't gettin' in ma van!" B.A growled while looking over the pilot's shoulder at Fred.

At spotting the gold-clad man, the gosling suddenly squeaked loudly and tried to jump out of the box to reach him.

"Don't you say that B.A. Look how happy he is to see you," Murdock laughed while picking up Fred and placing him in B.A's cupped hands under loud protest of the latter.  
The floundering gosling immediately calmed down and B.A frowned at the fluffy yellow and gray ball of down when it nestled it's tiny body between the heavily ringed fingers and put its head under a wing.

"Errr…" was all he could mutter when Murdock put his hands in his pockets and walked away whistling to pack his things.

B.A looked dumbstruck.

"You sure make a cute daddy, B.A," Face remarked rather unwisely while searching for his duffel bag.

The conman was promptly rewarded with an angry growl from the big man who tried to pry the gosling into the conman's hands instead. Face jumped out of the sergeant's way and quickly locked himself up in the bathroom, explaining loudly that he had to get his toiletries sorted first. Fuming and with stretched arms, B.A then turned around and started chasing a protesting pilot while the gosling happily squeaked in his hands. After some less than mild threats, Murdock finally gave in and with an unnerved look on his face, took the gosling from the big guy's hands. As on cue, the faceman surfaced from the bathroom again, and the packing continued under a mild squabble regarding Fred.

Hannibal observed his bickering men who'd finally busied themselves wrapping up the place. As he zipped-up his own duffel bag, he chuckled quietly.  
They'd brought another mission to a good end and he couldn't be more proud of them.  
Not for the first time, he realized that they truly were a bunch of very unlikely individuals. They were rather unorthodox as a unit, but it worked. Their friendship was strong and their combined quirkiness made them solid as a rock.

Within minutes, the four men + 1 gosling were on the road again.  
Always on the run, but at least they were together.

* * *

At some point during the trip home...

"Hey, B.A! Let's do a game. I spy with my little eye somethinggggg yellow. You get 3 guesses."

"Shut up fool, I'm drivin'!"

(a sigh and a long winding silence later:)

..."It's Fred, ain't it?"

FINI


End file.
